The Watcher's Apprentice
by Ebonia
Summary: AU, Buffy xover. When six year old Harry Potter runs away from the Dursleys, he never knows where it will lead him...least of all into a life filled with Watchers, vampires and things that go bump in the night.
1. The Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything you recognise, but I do take credit for the plot and any OCs.

**Author's Note:** This is my first fic, so any feedback you can give me would be great. The Watcher's Apprentice is to hopefully be the first of eight fics in The Apprentice Series - a completely AU series that continuously crosses over Harry Potter with Buffy. For The Watcher's Apprentice, only basic knowledge of either is required. The Buffy-verse is hardly changed, though the Potter-verse is completely different. I know that technically this should go in the "Buffy the vampire Slayer Crossovers" section, but this story takes place much more in (an AU version of) the Potter-verse, and any Buffy knowledge needed will be explained. Please see my profile for a full explanation of the changes I have made with the timelines.

* * *

**The Watcher's Apprentice**

**The Prologue**

Albus Dumbledore looked down at the letter he had just received from his good friend, Arabella Figg, with a frown on his face. He sighed as a knock at his office door sounded, and he called "Come in Severus, Minerva." The door opened and they entered.

Minerva had her mouth open as if she were about to question Albus but, looking at his face, she decided better of it. When they were seated, Albus cleared his throat and gave them the bad news. "I have just got confirmation that Harry Potter is no longer in the Dursley household, and probably hasn't been for almost a fortnight." There was no reaction from Severus, though undoubtedly many emotions were hidden beneath his customary mask. Minerva gasped.

"What? How could he have gone?" Her mouth opened and closed, almost like a fish. It seemed that she could not believe that somehow this six year old boy would have gone.

"That is what I intend to find out," said Albus. "There is a rumour that he was being mistreated, abused physically and mentally, but they are only rumours. However if they _are_ founded there is the possibility that he has run away from his home." Severus shifted uncomfortably, and Minerva glanced at him, almost in pity. Severus then spoke for the first time.

"Presuming he has not run away, what could have happened?"

"Any number of possibilities," replied Albus. "The worst case scenario would be that he has been taken by the remnants of the death eaters-" Severus snorted, cutting Albus off.

"And I suppose that's why you have got me involved." he sneered.

"Yes," replied Albus simply. "Your…colleagues…" Albus said, choosing his words carefully, "may have some information, and if they do not, at least we know where Harry is _not_."

0o0o0o0

Back at his rooms, Severus immediately went to his desk and started writing a letter to Lucius Malfoy. Part way through, it struck him that Malfoy's child, Draco, would be about the same age as the Potter boy, only six years old. He couldn't imagine how Draco would react if he was ever kidnapped – he would probably start crying because he didn't have his own personal house elf or something equally pathetic. Severus finished his letter and read it through, made a couple of changes until he was satisfied with it, and then attached it to his owl's leg. "As fast as possible to Malfoy Manor, Nightshade." He whispered to her, and she took flight out of the window. He watched her as she got smaller and smaller, silhouetted against the evening sky.

0o0o0o0

Harry crouched behind some bushes in Hyde Park. During the two weeks he had been out on his own, he had slowly made his way to London, where he had been for three nights now. He knew that normally he would have been sent to his cupboard for the night by this time because it was getting dark, and as it was June it must be quite late. He watched a young couple get off the bench closest to him, and stroll off. The woman giggled as the man whispered something in her ear, and they followed the path round a corner, out of Harry's vision.

Harry turned round, towards the woods, and walked in. Instead of feeling scared with the approaching darkness, he felt oddly calm. No one was in these woods apart from an old tramp that lay on an aged, frayed blanket all the time. Harry walked away from him, and found the tree that he had used last night. It had fallen over, but still had leaves on it that could be used as a make-shift mattress. He lay down on them and almost immediately fell asleep.

0o0o0o0

The next morning, Severus was getting dressed when Nightshade returned with another letter attached to her leg. He allowed himself a brief smile when he read it, though it was quickly replaced by a worried frown. He finished getting up, and then hurried to breakfast where he could speak to Albus. He rushed through the corridors, almost running over two tiny first years, and barking at them to "Watch where you're going!"

The Great Hall was noisy as usual, and Severus sat down at his usual seat, noting with annoyance that Albus had not yet come down. He took some eggs and bacon from the dishes in front of him and started eating. Minerva glanced at him from across the other side of Albus' chair with a questioning look and Severus silently shook his head at her. She seemed relieved, but Severus couldn't understand why – didn't she realise that now the Death Eaters would be looking for him too, and it would be a race against time as to who could get to Potter first?

Finally Albus arrived, striding gracefully between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables. Severus tried vainly to catch his eye, but it seemed like Albus was determined not to look at him. Once Albus was seated, and had a plate full of food in front of him, Severus got up and hurried to his side. Albus continued munching as Severus told him his news. "Lucius Malfoy thanks me for the good news and tells me that he will start a search for the boy, because he does _so_ want him back safe and sound."

Albus frowned.

"This means we're going to need our most trusted allies all looking for Harry. It's time for a regrouping of the Order, I feel." Severus nodded swiftly, and swept away, down towards the dungeons to get ready for his first class.

0o0o0o0

It was two days later, a Saturday evening, and miraculously Albus had managed to get all the remaining Order members together, along with a few new ones, including a girl only just starting her Auror training, whose name, Albus smiled, was Nymphadora Tonks. He had never personally met her, but he was assured by Alastor Moody that she was "Prime Order material."

It was almost time for the meeting to start. The only people currently in his office were Severus, Alastor, Remus Lupin and Mundungus Fletcher. There was an awkward silence between them as Severus held a large grudge against Remus, and Moody held one against Severus.

Luckily, right at that moment, the door opened and Minerva walked in followed by Molly and Arthur Weasley. Molly was closely followed by a young lady with bright green hair in a short bob. She wore an orange _Weird Sisters_ T-shirt and red trousers that clashed horribly. From the glances Molly was giving her, it seemed as if she didn't approve of this girl, and from the look Moody was giving her, it seemed as if this was Nymphadora Tonks. "Aah, Minerva, Arthur, Molly, Nymphadora, I'll draw you up some chairs." said Albus as he took out his wand from his breast pocket and literally drew out four chairs in the air. Each took a seat, and the awkward silence again resumed. After a few minutes, when the other members had arrived, Albus cleared his throat.

"Good evening everyone, thank you for coming on such short notice. I'd like to welcome you all to the first meeting of the Order of the Phoenix since the end of the war. Old members will recognise some people, and also notice a few new faces. Introductions can be made at the end, but for now I must get straight down to business. It has come to my attention that Harry Potter has gone missing."

There was general uproar. Severus seemed to be the only person unmoved by the news. Even Minerva was joining in the hubbub, though admittedly she was trying to get everyone to calm down. After allowing everyone a moment for the shock to settle in, Albus banged his desk with a goblet a few times to restore order. "Quiet please, let me explain. Panicking will get us nowhere. I have received confirmation that Harry is not in Death Eater hands, but that they are also looking for him. It is imperative that they do not find him, which is why I have asked for all of your help to find him…"

Albus continued on, explaining to the members what could have happened to Harry. By the end of the meeting they had a proper search plan organised. It was almost certain that Harry was still in the country, so they would concentrate their search in England. The members were put into pairs to search for Harry, and the search was to begin the next day, in the towns surrounding Little Whinging.

0o0o0o0

Harry had found that sleeping in the streets was marginally warmer than in the woods because some heat came off the walls of houses. Harry wrapped himself in an old blanket he had found and munched on a cereal bar he had bought with a pound he had found on the floor. He had also bought a packet of crisps, but had already eaten those. Once he had finished his bar, he was still starving, but he tried to ignore his aching stomach and get to sleep.

The next morning, just as the rush hour was starting, Harry was woken by someone walking nearby. He slowly took his blanket off himself and crept behind a dustbin. He let out a breath of relief as the person came into view – it was a boy, about eleven years old, briskly walking through the backstreet, jingling some loose change in his hand. He had a scruffy look about him, though it seemed almost false, as if he had made himself look scruffier for fashion. Harry stepped out from behind the dustbin, just in front of the boy, who stopped, completely surprised. Harry looked at him for a second, and then decided he was so hungry, he might as well try. "Do you have any spare money?" he asked.

The boy took in Harry's appearance and then said "I don't know. I've got to buy some things for me mum, but she said I could keep the change – you can have it though. Follow me." Harry tagged along behind the boy. "I'm Michael, by the way. What's your name?" asked the boy.

"I'm Harry." Replied Harry plainly. He wished he had more to say.

"Oh," said Michael. "Where do you live? In that alley?"

"I s'pose. I found a good place – there's heat from the walls of the house behind me. I only got here a few days ago though."

"Where'd you live before then?" asked Michael.

"Four Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey," Harry reeled off, as all small children do when asked their address or telephone number.

"Why don't you live there any more?"

"I ran away." Harry didn't know what else to say. "My family…"

"Ran away from your family, eh? I bet they've reported you missin' and soon you'll be all over the news." Michael nodded knowingly.

"I don't think so." contradicted Harry. "They hate me. My aunt always said she wished she had never taken me in, and my uncle, he…he hated me too." Harry finished lamely.

"Oh." said Michael, slightly put out. "Well, we're at the shop now. I just need to buy some milk." They went into the newsagents, and Michael got a six pinter of milk out of the fridge. He paid for it and then gave Harry seventy pence. "See ya." he called as he left, swinging the milk carton. Harry gave him a small smile and glanced down at the seventy pence in his hand. He didn't know how much it was – he only knew the feel of one pound coins and one or two pennies.

Harry, slightly embarrassed, walked up to the counter and asked the man how much it was. The man took pity on him and said "Sev'nty pee, but don't worry, have this for free." It was a sandwich.

"Thank you!" Harry cried, and made his way back to his blanket, munching happily.

0o0o0o0

The Order members were out, combing the streets of London amongst other cities. However, London is a big place, and they didn't find Harry. Little did they know that it would take them a very long time to find him…


	2. Goodbye Michael

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything you recognise, but I do take credit for the plot and any OCs.

**Authors Note: **Thanks to **irat** and **pottersparky** for reviewing. Any sort of feedback you, my readers, can give me would be great as this is my first story on here.

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**The Watcher's Apprentice**

**Chapter One: Goodbye Michael**

Ten year old Harry couldn't believe his luck. There, on the pavement in front of him, was a wallet. Slowly, almost not believing it was true, he picked it up with dirty hands. He whistled softly as he opened it. It was heavy with change and contained two twenty pound notes and a credit card. Not able to use it, Harry pulled the card out and threw it on the pavement.

Harry emptied some of the change into his grubby hands. He ran to the newsagents he had found four years ago with his only friend, Michael, and bought a sandwich. He was glad the shopkeeper never asked where he got his money from, as Harry thought it was pretty obvious he didn't have much of a home. Every so often, when he had a clearout, Michael would bring him some clothes, which Harry was very thankful for, but Michael was five years older than him, so his clothes were always much too big. Plus there was the fact that Harry was small for his age anyway because he didn't exactly have the best meals. Whenever he could, Michael brought him some food too, and if he was left at home for the day, he let Harry use his bath, but despite everything that he could do for Harry, he couldn't give Harry a home.

Michael lived with his mum; about one minute's walk away from Harry's alley. Apparently his mum brought home a different man every two weeks. They lived on benefits (Michael had explained to Harry that the government gave money to people who couldn't find a job) and although they didn't have much, they had each other and they had a home. For Harry, Michael was a lifeline, but Harry knew that to Michael he was nothing more than an afterthought who he helped when he could.

As Harry was walking back to his alley, clutching his sandwich, the subject of his thoughts ran smack into him.

"Oof," grunted Michael. "Oh, hey Harry. Sorry. Din't see you there. Whatcha got?"

"Bacon sarny," said Harry around his mouthful. "You'll never guess wha' I found."

"What?"

"A wallet on the floor, said Harry. "Wiv loadsa money in it."

"Yeah, sure. Just on the floor," said Michael, nodding slowly. "Look, Harry. I know you hav'ta steal sometimes. You don't hav'ta hide it from me."

"I'm not hidin' nuffin'. Really. It was jus' sittin' on the ground," said Harry earnestly.

"What'd it have in it?"

"Forty quid!" said Harry excitedly.

"Wow," said Michael. "Talk about lucky."

"Yeah, I know."

"Well, I gotta get back," said Michael. "Greg's a bit obsessed with punctuality." Greg was his mum's current man.

"You're usin' long fancy words ag'in."

"When you're punctual you're on time," explained Michael. "Anyway, gotta run!"

Michael ran off, leaving Harry to wander the streets.

0o0o0o0

After attempting to take a drink from his empty cup of tea for the fourth time, Giles decided it was time for a break from his work. He grabbed his coat, and set out for nowhere in particular. He didn't know London like he knew Oxford, and so he decided to head for Hyde Park, one of the few places he knew how to get to from his apartment.

It was a hot, sunny day so many people had laid out blankets and were having picnics at the park. Giles watched a small boy from his table at a small tea shop across the road from the large field. The boy was walking slowly across the field, meandering between the blankets and makeshift football games going on. The boy was wearing worn out clothes several sizes too big for him, and was altogether very scruffy and dirty. He had jet black hair which hung messily in front of his eyes and reached to his chin. Giles would normally have labelled him as one of those poor children without a home, put a couple of pounds in a collection tin for the homeless and gone on his way, but he was drawn to this child. Watchers were taught to tell their Slayer to trust her instincts, so Giles decided to take some of his own medicine. He watched the boy closely, and when he came closer, he beckoned him over.

"Yes, sir?" asked the boy.

"What's your name?"

"Harry," said the boy.

"I'm Rupert Giles, but you can just call me Giles." Harry nodded, obviously wondering where this was going.

Giles could think of no delicate way to ask the question, so he came out with: "Do you have a home?"

"No sir," Harry said. "I jus' live in a lil alley off of Desmond Road."

Giles had no idea where Desmond Road was, but he was drawn to this boy so strongly, that he felt he had to offer him a better home.

"I know this will sound very odd, coming from a complete stranger, but would you like a home?"

"You gonna put me in some orph'nige or summin?" asked Harry suspiciously.

"Not exactly. It's a kind of school."

"I aint bin ta school in ages. I can 'ardly read even though I'm ten."

"We can help!" said Giles. "It's not really a school, just like one. It might be easier if we explained this back at my flat."

Giles led the boy to his flat and sat him on the low sofa. As the boy looked up, and his hair fell away from his face, he saw a jagged lightening bolt shaped scar on his forehead. Not wanting to make Harry feel any more uncomfortable than Giles was certain he was already feeling, he ignored it and went on.

"I don't know why, but when I saw you today I was…drawn to you," he explained. "Not in a weird way," he added, seeing Harry's face, "but I know that there's something different about you, and I think you'd be a great help to the Watcher's Council."

Harry was about to ask a question, but Giles held up a hand to stop him.

"To explain what the Watcher's Council is, I need to go slightly off track," said Giles, starting his speech. "Once unto every generation, a Slayer is born. One girl in all the world. She alone will stand against the vampires, the demons, the forces of darkness, and to help the Slayer in her duties is her Watcher, provided by the Watcher's Council."

"Vampires are real?" asked Harry in disbelief.

"I'm afraid so," answered Giles. "And if you'll let me, I can take you to Oxford to the Watcher's Council. There they can teach you, and train you, to help the fight against the forces of darkness."

"I thought you said that the Slayer was always a girl?"

"She is, and the current slayer lives in Japan, but you have…something."

Harry mumbled something.

"Pardon?"

"I said that I think I can do magic."

Now, Giles had dabbled in magic rituals in his university days, and he knew what devastating things magic could do. But why would he have been drawn to this boy if he was evil? And since when were small boys evil?

"Can you show me?"

Instead of answering, Harry concentrated and then suddenly disappeared. He reappeared the other side of the sofa instantaneously, with a small sound – a cross between a crack and a pop.

If Giles had been drinking he would have choked. That was so much better than the sort of magic he used to do.

"Yes," he said, in a slightly high pitched voice. "You'll definitely be a lot of help to the Watcher's Council."

0o0o0o0

"Michael!" Harry called from below his friend's bedroom window. "Michael!"

"Harry?" asked a voice. The window slid up and open. Michael's head poked out. "What choo doin' here?"

"I've come to say bye!"

"Wha'? Why? Where are you going?"

"Oxford."

"For how long?"

"Dunno. A long time. Months, maybe years."

"Why?"

"A man took me off the street an' said 'e could take me ta school in Oxford."

"Why would a man take you off the street an' take you ta school in Oxford?"

Harry just shrugged. "Well, bye then," he said.

"Now you wait just a minute!" said Michael, scrambling from the window. Harry stood still, waiting. Soon the front door opened and Michael ran out. He took Harry by surprise when he hugged him.

"You know, you'll come back all posh an' smart," said the older boy, jokingly. "That's where all the clever people go, Oxford is."

"But I can't read!"

"Don't matter. They'll teach you. An' a load better than I could."

0o0o0o0

Oxford was a beautiful place. The centre of the town was full of old buildings with beautiful architecture, and the colleges Giles and Harry passed were even nicer. Harry looked out the window the whole way – it had been years since he had been in a car. They stopped outside a house at the corner of a terrace, and Giles manoeuvred the car to fit it in the only roadside parking space left.

Apparently Giles had telephoned the Council earlier, so they were expected, but instead of calming Harry's nerves, it heightened them. Harry tagged along behind Giles as they went up the five steps to the front door. Bronze numbers on the door proclaimed the house to be number twelve 'b'. How more cliché could you get? Harry thought. Giles really lived at number thirteen. Harry became even more nervous when Giles rang the bell, which was an old fashioned pull chain rather than a button. After a minute, a young woman answered the door. She had long brown hair pulled back into a straight ponytail, and she looked quite young.

"Is this him?" she asked, indicating Harry.

"Yes," Giles nodded.

She stepped aside to let them through into the hall. "Arthur Jacobs will see you in his study," she said to Giles, "and Harry, you can wait with me."

Harry and the woman, who introduced herself as Katherine, went into a fancy sitting room, and sat down in Edwardian style armchairs, where she offered him tea and biscuits, and started chattering about his schooling. Apparently, the Watcher's Council had it all sorted out already. Harry had to admit he was impressed at their efficiency, even though he didn't particularly want to be schooled.

"…and so we've arranged it all," Katherine was saying. "I'll help you with reading and writing, Giles will do sports and maths, James will do history and languages with you, and I think Mr Jacobs will be doing science, but he hasn't actually said yes yet."

"Wait, wait," said Harry. "Who are all these people?"

"Were you not listening at all?" she asked, annoyed.

"Yeah," said Harry. "Bu'only the end."

Katherine sighed irritably. "We're all Watchers. When the old Watcher dies or retires, a new Watcher is chosen to take his or her place. There are places like this house all over Britain, in fact all over the world, though just because you live in the country of the new Slayer doesn't give you more of a chance of being chosen."

Harry nodded. "So am I being trained to be a Watcher too?"

Katherine looked at him closely. "I'm not sure. Our instructions were to train you as if you were, but whether that will go on to be your career is not yet decided. These things usually run in families."

They had arrived in the early evening, so soon Harry and Katherine joined Giles and a slightly chubby, blonde man who Harry assumed was Mr Jacobs, in the dining room. The table was large, and could have seated ten, so they all sat clustered around one end. One wall was completely covered in a bookcase, full of old, thick tombs. The room was decorated in the same sort of Edwardian style as the sitting room, and the two men in their tweed suits fitted in nicely. Katherine, who was wearing a modern trouser suit, and Harry, in his worn out jeans, looked more than slightly out of place.

The food itself was a normal meal, nothing fancy, just steak and kidney pie with a few vegetables, but Harry hadn't eaten that much in a very long time. He could barely manage three quarters of it until he was full enough to burst.

Mr Jacobs looked a stern man, but he was actually quite friendly, if a bit too formal. He sat opposite Harry, and asked him what he knew of science. Harry racked his brains, and talked about what he could remember of magnets, friction and gravity, whilst Mr Jacobs nodded along. He seemed the sort of man who took notes at every opportunity, and only wasn't taking them then because to write at the dinner table would have been rude.

After dinner, Harry was instructed to have a bath. While he washed himself, Katherine went out to a nearby clothes shop and bought him some pyjamas. He tried them on, and while they were slightly big, they fitted better than anything he had ever worn. His other clothes were put in the wash overnight, as he had to wear them in the morning while they went shopping for others. He attempted to brush his unruly chin-length hair, but had to give up. Even Katherine only dragged the comb through a few times until she declared it a lost cause. She did see his scar though. It was a part of him which he both loved and hated – it was the only connection he had with his parents, as he had got it the night they died in a car crash, but it also brought too much unwanted attention. Harry quickly explained how he had got it to Katherine who hugged him tightly for no reason at all.

Harry's bedroom was on the top floor (the house had four – ground, first, second and third) and was almost an attic room. As he was led up there (again, by Katherine) he wondered what the other rooms were for. Each floor had four rooms, and he assumed that each floor had one bathroom. That meant that there were nine bedrooms, whereas only five people lived there. At least, Harry guessed that James lived there too, even though he hadn't actually seen him.

Harry's room was rather plain, but he was told that he could decorate it how he liked (within reason). It contained only a bunk bed, a wardrobe, a cupboard and two desks and chairs. It had a wooden floor and cream wallpaper. Because it was really in the roof, the single window was slanted and during the day half the room would always be in shadow.

"Katherine?" asked Harry.

"Hmm?"

"Why's there two of ev'rything?"

"Just in case we need two people to sleep in one room, but don't worry, this is just your room for quite a while."

Harry nodded, and she left the room for him to go to sleep.


	3. Hello James

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything you recognise, but I do take credit for the plot and any OCs.

**Author's Note:** Thanks to **the-dreamer4**, **Lady Lamia**, **Godpod**, **DM**, **Sinkingboat** and **JuMiKu** for reviewing. Thanks to **the-dreamer4** for pointing out that I had unsigned reviews disallowed - sorry about that, I didn't realise. But I've fixed it so now everyone can review, and please do.

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**The Watcher's Apprentice**

**Chapter Two: Hello James**

Harry woke up sweating and shaking. He had had that dream again – the one with high, cruel laugher and green light. He curled the soft sheets around him. Suddenly, everything that had happened the day before came back to him. His toes curled in happiness as he thought that he would never have to sleep outside through winter again!

Noticing that early morning light was streaming in through the window, Harry sat up. His clothes from yesterday were folded up on the end of his bed, and he put them on and went in search of this floor's bathroom.

After finding (and using) it, Harry slipped quietly downstairs. He wasn't sure if anyone else was up, and didn't want to wake them if they were still sleeping. Harry found Mr Jacobs in the kitchen, making some toast.

"G'mornin', sir," he said quietly.

The man spun around, a butter knife held in his hand like a weapon. Half-melted butter slowly slipped down it and landed on the tiled floor with a _plop_.

"Harry!" he exclaimed. "I didn't hear you there."

Harry was about to murmur an apology, but Mr Jacobs waved it away.

"No, no. It's good that you can sneak around silently. Giles won't have to teach you it."

Harry gave a nervous smile, and slid across the tiles in his socks. Last night, Katherine had told him to help himself for breakfast, so he took an apple from the fruit bowl and began to munch.

0o0o0o0

Many hours later, and Harry was more tired than he could ever remember being. Katherine had dragged him from shop to shop, buying clothes left, right and centre. They were nothing like what he had worn before. He only had two pairs of jeans compared to about five pairs of black slacks and a couple of tracksuits. Harry was sure he didn't need half of the stuff she was buying him, but it felt nice to be spoilt.

Eventually they made their way home, where they were greeted at the door by a new man. He was young, but not as young as Katherine. His black hair was slightly curly, and much more tamed than Harry's mop.

"Hi James," said Katherine tiredly. "Harry, this is James."

James held out a hand and Harry shook it.

"So you're the one I'm going to be teaching?"

Harry nodded.

The man sighed and closed the door. Turning to Katherine, he asked, "Does he speak?"

"Course he does, don't you Harry."

"Yes," said Harry. "'Evenin', sir."

James smiled. "Please, don't sir me. We're all friends here, right? Well, apart from Mr Jacobs, but that's just Mr Jacobs. Call me James."

0o0o0o0

Dinner that night was a lot less awkward than the day before. Everyone had already got the measure of Harry, and they were able to sit and chatter like friends rather than acquaintances. They talked excitedly of Harry beginning his lessons the next day, and while Harry grumbled (especially to Katherine), he was secretly glad to be getting an education. Michael always seemed so knowledgeable to Harry, and yet apparently he wasn't at all near the top of his class.

Just before he went to bed, Harry threw his old clothes in the outside dustbin, never to be worn again.

His new life had begun.

0o0o0o0

Harry's fingers closed clumsily around the ballpoint pen he was using to copy the alphabet Katherine had written at the top of his piece of paper. Her writing was very cursive and all of the letters joined together, making it even harder for him to copy. Katherine said that moving straight on to joined up writing would save a lot of time, but Harry thought it was just to make things harder for him.

Reading was just as hard, though at least these letters were printed and written clearly. Katherine had gone out and bought a set of Biff and Chip books for Harry to start reading. Although they were the right level for him, they made him feel so stupid. He knew that only six or seven year olds read them.

James' lessons were just plain boring. The man tried to make them interesting, running around the dining room and using salt and pepper to re-enact famous battles, but much of history involved politics, and enacting the signing of the Versailles Treaty wasn't quite the same.

Languages were a forte of James', and apparently he could speak seven, though he was only teaching Harry two – Spanish and Russian. The Spanish came quite easily to Harry, but the Russian was especially hard to learn because the sounds that James made (which Harry was told to copy) sounded like a load of gobbledegook.

Mr Jacobs' science lessons were held in the man's room. His room was like Harry's, but contained a double bed instead of Harry's bunk. The two desks were pushed together to create a large table against the wall. A row of conical flasks were along the edge next to the wall, and hanging on the wall itself was a poster of the human body. Mr Jacobs had apparently studied Chemistry at Oxford University, so most of the lessons were Chemistry, but he had more than his fair share of knowledge on the other sciences too.

Maths was pretty simple. Harry could already do arithmetic, and Giles taught him percentages, decimals, and fractions. The man had muttered about algebraic equations, whatever they were, but Katherine had persuaded Giles that in school, children didn't learn that until they were teenagers, so Harry didn't need to learn that just yet. Harry was glad – even the name sounded complicated.

By far, Harry's favourite lesson was sport. There was a door under the stairs which led to the basement, and when Giles had first led him to it, it had brought up painful memories of being locked in his cupboard for days, but when he had got down there, Harry couldn't believe his eyes. The basement was quite large (for a basement) and it contained a sort of mini-gym. There were weights, a rowing machine and a punch bag. There was also a cabinet full of different kinds of weapons – swords, axes, stakes and bows and arrows, amongst other stuff Harry had no idea about. Giles usually took him into the back garden to learn fighting, and to Harry's annoyance, they weren't going to start using the weapons until at least a year.

Harry turned his attention back to his alphabet. He had just finished the 'z', but there were a few sentences to follow.

_The quick brown dog jumped over the lazy fox._

_Foxes have holes and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lie down and rest._

_Katherine is the best teacher ever! James is rubbish._

Harry snorted at the last one. He may not be very good at reading, but he could tell what the sentences said. Katherine looked over at him innocently from the large tomb she was reading. It was well known in the house that Katherine always put herself in competition with James, who hardly retaliated. Harry had no idea why the woman thought she had to prove herself. Perhaps it was because James was closest to her in age, or perhaps both Giles and Mr Jacobs earned too much respect for Katherine to act that way around them too.

One day, Katherine took Harry out and bought him a bike. Apparently these were essential for getting around Oxford. As she wished, Harry used his whenever he went out. He was often sent out to the local supermarket to get essentials like milk if they ran out of them midweek, before the big weekend shopping.

It was on the way to the shop, that Harry noticed a group of teenagers gathered at a street corner. None of the groups of teenagers Harry had ever seen in London were doing good, so Harry steered clear. Luckily they were on the opposite side of the road to Harry, so he just kept his eyes front and carried on cycling.

"Oi, you!" one of them yelled.

Harry sighed and stopped, turning to them.

"Are you the kid who lives down the end of Finley Street?"

Harry nodded. His address was 12b Finley Street.

"What's it like there?" the boy asked. He didn't sound dangerous at all now, just curious.

Harry shrugged. "Just normal I guess. Why?"

The boy scoffed. "Why? _Why?_" he repeated. "Everyone knows that house is _odd_." The others surrounding him all nodded in agreement.

"Well, I don't," said Harry. "An' I live there."

The other boy shrugged. "How come you've suddenly started to live there anyway?"

"I've bin 'ere fer two weeks," said Harry, not understanding.

"Exactly," said the boy. "No-one else moved in with you, did they?"

Harry shook his head. He cycled off to avoid further questioning. He didn't understand their need to know about his private life, and what was so interesting about his house anyway? He tried to forget about them – teenagers were weird.

0o0o0o0

Harry was doing some homework at his desk one evening (he didn't know why everyone insisted on calling it homework when he did all his work at home anyway) when James knocked on his door. It was kind of pointless because the door was open so that Harry could hear when he was called for dinner, but Harry said "Come in" anyway. James pulled the other chair across the room and sat down next to Harry. Harry looked at him warily.

"Hi, Harry," he said.

"Hi, James," Harry replied awkwardly. He really wanted to ask James what he was doing in his room, but decided against it because it would be rude.

"Alright, this is really awkward, but I was nominated by the others to have this conversation with you," James said. For one horrible moment, Harry thought he was going to have The Talk (which he had already had from Michael), but then he relaxed when James said: "Do you understand what vampires and demons actually are?"

Harry looked at him blankly. What an absurd question. Everyone heard about vampires and demons in some form or another. "Err…yeah," he answered unsurely. "I guess so. I mean, everyone's heard about 'em, just not as part of the real world."

"So, what do you know?"

"Well, demons and such come from Hell. They get burned by crosses. They can be killed like any normal person, but they usually have some sort of power to make 'em 'arder to defeat. To be a vampire they 'ave to suck your blood, then you suck theirs. Vampires can be killed by fire, beheading, sunlight and a stake through the heart. Oh, and also garlic and Holy Water, but I can't see how that could actually happen, unless you forced one to take a bath of Holy Water or something…"

James pulled out a small silver vial on a chain. Leaning over Harry, he clasped the chain round his neck. The chain was just short enough to not come off over his head. "This contains Holy Water, which will at least stall them for a while," James explained, "and the vial is made of silver, which can kill werewolves." Harry nodded, tucking it under his shirt. "You know, Harry, you're one of us now," he said. "You may not be part of the Watcher's Council, but you're part of the family."

Harry had never felt so loved.


	4. Evenin', Mr Johnson

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything you recognise, but I do take credit for the plot and any OCs.

**Author's Note:** Thanks to **Lady Lamia, DM, Sparky, enchantedlight, Spacecatdet, koldy, Sinkingboat, kirallie,angelkitty77, Dr Gero **and **gaul1** for reviewing.

Just to answer a couple of questions: the others in the house are interested in Harry's magic, though they are not fearful or even extremely astonished as they are used to knowing about/seeing unusual things. Also, Harry and Buffy will not be the same age in this fic - please see my profile for the full changes I've made with the timelines.

Anyway, on with the chapter! Please review at the end!

* * *

**The Watcher's Apprentice**

**Chapter Three: 'Evenin', Mr Johnson**

By the time October came around, Harry had been living with Giles and the others for almost three months. A few days before Halloween, Harry, Katherine and James had fun making about six pumpkin heads. Each of them had a different expression, and they were placed on the edges of the steps leading to the house. Whenever Harry entered or left the house, he felt as if they were watching him. They really did look creepy, and Harry supposed that this was just to make everyone think that the house was really odd. The teenager's words had finally been explained to Harry – the Watchers didn't want to be bothered by anyone so they made themselves look odd to any outsiders.

On the thirtieth, Katherine was fussing around the house. Harry was forbidden to do any writing in the sitting room in case he got pen on the furniture, and James was told off for using a colander as a World War Two helmet in Harry's history lesson. The other members of the Watcher's Council would be coming the next day, and the house was being made spotless.

Harry was nervous about meeting the Council – though it was apparently traditional for them to all come down for Halloween, this year they had a special person to meet. Him. An outfit had been set aside for him to wear when he met them – black trousers, black shirt and black shoes – and he had to show them some of what he could do, such as his tricks of changing place and conjuring objects out of thin air. Harry was scared of doing too much magic in one place – he thought some obscure government organisation like MI5 could tell when someone did a lot of magic, because weird cloaked men always appeared after Harry had tired himself out with magic. When he confided his fears to Mr Jacobs during a science lesson, the man explained to him that Giles had used Wicca magic to mess up the signals of any sort of tracking device in the house, whether it was magical or simply from a television remote control.

0o0o0o0

Halloween dawned foggy and mysterious, as befitted the day. The Council wasn't arriving until the evening, so Harry busied himself doing homework and peeling potatoes for dinner. Harry wouldn't be able to eat with everyone because there wasn't enough room at the table, but Harry was thankful – it would save a lot of awkwardness.

When six o' clock finally rolled around, Harry, having finished his early meal, went upstairs to change. The inside of his wardrobe door had a mirror, and Harry used that to try and get his hair to lie flat. He spent a quarter of an hour on it, using varying amounts of spit and water, and still it sprang back up. Giving up, he went downstairs, and reached the hall just as the bell rang. Katherine was in the kitchen and the others were still upstairs, so Harry opened it.

"'Evenin', sir," he said, seeing the man standing outside. The man was a dark haired version of Mr Jacobs. "Do come in."

Harry shut the door against the evening cold, and luckily Katherine came to his rescue, and he didn't have to play host to an unknown man. "Good evening, Mr Johnson," said Katherine, shaking the man's hand. "Would you like me to take your coat?"

"Thank you," said the man – Mr Johnson – coldly, as he shrugged off his coat and handed it to Katherine, who hung it on a hook.

Mr Johnson looked down at Harry. His blue eyes were hard, and when he spoke, his formal words held nothing of the warmth of Mr Jacobs'. "So you must be the boy we've come to meet," the man smiled, but it did not reach his eyes, "and you are to give us a show this evening, are you not?"

"Yes, sir," said Harry.

The man strode past Harry into the sitting room. Harry stayed standing in the hall while Katherine rushed in after Mr Johnson and asked if he'd like a drink.

Giles, James and Mr Jacobs soon came down, and the rest of the Council arrived soon after. Harry was told to show them what he could do, but even though he received many gasps and puzzled murmurings, all Harry was thinking about was Mr Johnson. The man was sitting, joining in with everybody else's reactions, but his were not of true astonishment, he was just copying the others' astonishment.

Harry watched Mr Johnson as carefully as he could, which wasn't that carefully because he had to concentrate on whatever trick the others asked him to perform. Every so often the man would take a swig from a hip flask kept in the inside breast pocket of his jacket. This was not especially odd – the man _could_ be an alcoholic, Harry supposed, but he had declined a drink when Katherine asked him.

0o0o0o0

By the time December came, all thoughts of the mysterious Mr Johnson had gone from Harry's mind. Harry's writing was declared legible by Mr Jacobs of all people, and he could haltingly read through Katherine's recipe book. Giles and James helped Harry and Katherine put up Christmas decorations, and a huge fake fir tree was taken from the spare room on the first floor (Katherine's and James' rooms were on the second floor) and assembled in the hall. Giles had recently taken to going out for long periods of time, and though the other adults seemed to know where he went, Harry hadn't the courage to ask him, but whenever he was home, the man made sure old fashioned Christmas Carols were heard through the house.

Harry was sitting in the sitting room, watching the tiny old television one evening, when the doorbell rang. This was an unusual occurance in itself – even carollers hardly dared to squeeze up the few steps and let their merry tunes clash horribly with _God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen_ or _Silent Night_ – but when Harry opened the door and saw who it was he took an involuntary step back.

"'Evenin', Mr Johnson," mumbled Harry.

The man stepped into the house, and closed the door behind him with a loud _snap_. "Is Giles here?" he growled, with a sneer. There was no pretence at friendliness this time.

"No, sir," said Harry. The muffled sounds of the television were the only things that broke the silence in the house. Harry was about to ask "Would ya like to come in?" but thought it pointless, so instead he said "Would ya like me to take your coat?"

Instead of answering, Mr Johnson turned on his heel and wrenched the front door open. "Do tell him I called," he said menacingly when he reached the front step, and slammed the door behind himself.

"Who was that?" Harry heard James call from upstairs. Harry heard footsteps as the man came downstairs.

"Mr Johnson," said Harry, "for Giles."

"Mr Johnson came _here?_" asked James.

Harry was tempted to say "No, I answered next door's bell", but from the look on James' face, he didn't think his sarcasm would be appreciated. Harry stayed quiet.

James' worried frown was echoed on the faces of both Katherine and Mr Jacobs when they came downstairs, and on Giles' when he finally arrived home from wherever he'd been. Harry felt out of the loop, and tried to concentrate on the film he'd been watching, but what with the tension filling the house and the picture flicking from black and white to colour, Harry soon found himself sitting wondering why the stern Mr Johnson found it necessary to speak to Giles.

0o0o0o0

All of them made an effort to ignore whatever threat Mr Johnson posed, but when the doorbell rang halfway through their Christmas lunch, conversation stopped and everyone looked at Giles. He quietly excused himself and got up to answer the door as if nothing was wrong.

"Mr Johnson, how nice to see you," Harry heard Giles say. "We weren't expecting any guests, but I'm sure there's more than enough food if you'd care to join us?"

"I haven't come to stuff turkey down my gullet," said Mr Johnson fiercely. "You know why I've come…" his voice lowered dangerously, and James and Mr Jacobs started to make some strained conversation. Harry joined in, not wanting to be seen to be eavesdropping. Katherine got up and closed the door to give Giles some privacy.

After a few minutes, when the conversation in the dining room was drying up, and everyone was still wondering what Giles and Mr Johnson were whispering about in the hall, Giles' voice came through the door loud and clear.

"You've changed, Johnson! Ever since September! NOW GET OFF THIS PROPERTY! I'LL GET YOU THROWN OFF THE COUNCIL!"

The dining room was completely silent. The front door slammed shut. After a moment Giles strode back into the dining room. "Sorry everyone," he said, and began to eat. Mr Jacobs followed his example, and soon the silent meal resumed.

0o0o0o0

Mr Johnson visited them twice more – once in January and once in February – before March, and as the third month drew to an end, and the doorbell rang, Harry was prepared to tune out the predicted shouting match in favour of learning his Russian verbs before Katherine and James returned from the weekend shop. However, Giles opened the door to someone completely new.

"Oh, hello," said the Watcher, surprised. Because of Giles being three floors below him, Harry could only make out his tone of pleasant surprise, rather than his exact words. Wondering who was brave enough to come to the door, Harry left his desk and went down the three flights of stairs to the hall. He stopped halfway up the last flight when he saw who it was. Standing just inside the door was a woman and her daughter. Harry assumed they were related because they both shared the same bushy hair.

"…we've just moved in to next door but one," the woman was saying. "The people next door – not the ones between us, the ones on my other side – said that this house was odd, but we're firm believers in logic, aren't we Hermione?" the small girl nodded. "And we thought we'd come and see for ourselves. My husband, Julian, would have come too, but he had to stay late at the practice to get everything sorted out for when it opens on Monday." She said all this very fast, and Harry had to stifle a laugh at Giles' astonished face as the man tried to comprehend everything that had just been said to him. The woman took a breath, and in doing so she looked up and spotted Harry.

"Hello there," she said to Harry. Turning to Giles she said, "This must be your son-"

"N-no," Giles stammered out as Harry reached the bottom of the stairs. "We're not-"

"Oh and what lovely eyes he has too!" the woman carried on. "Don't you think so Hermione?"

The poor girl turned red and muttered that she thought they were very nice eyes.

"Look at them getting on so well already!" Hermione's mum exclaimed, turning to Giles. "Ahh, young love…"

Giles seemed to finally get his bearings, and in the dramatic pause the woman had left, he asked "Well, Dr Granger, would you like a cup of tea?"

"Oh don't 'Dr Granger' me, that's only when I'm in the surgery! It's Jane," she was saying as she was led off towards the kitchen. Harry was left standing in the hall with Hermione.

"I'm Harry," he said, sticking out his hand for her to shake. The girl took it shyly.

"Hermione Granger," she said.

"So," said Harry. "Whaddya wanna do?"

Hermione shrugged. "I usually just read all the time."

Harry shuddered. "Do ya wanna go to the park?"

"I'm probably not allowed. We only got here yesterday."

"Oh go on, let's ask," persuaded Harry. "It's really close."

They went to the kitchen. Hermione's mum needed some persuading, but finally they were allowed out, as long as they were back in an hour.

0o0o0o0

Harry collapsed onto the sofa an hour and a half later.

"If you start her talking, she never stops!" he complained to Giles. "She's like a miniature version of her mother!"

Harry had just got back from the park with Hermione, and it had been a total nightmare. She had gone on and on and on about where she used to live, what toys she had, what toys she cleared out, what her favourite school subjects were, what school she was going to, what school she used to go to…Just when Harry had thought she'd finished, she spotted two very small boys in the sandpit, shoving sand down their trousers. She hitched up her skirt, marched over there, and proceeded to lecture them on what you should and shouldn't do with sand. Harry had been an inch away from shouting at her to SHUT UP!

The doorbell rang once again. Hoping against hope that it wasn't that girl again, Harry left it for Giles. It wasn't Hermione. It was someone much worse.

Johnson.

"GILES!"

"I'm right here, Mr Johnson," replied Giles calmly. "No need to shout."

Mr Johnson ignored him.

"BECAUSE OF YOU, I'M NO LONGER ON THE COUNCIL!"

"Maybe you should spend more time stopping demons than trying to resurrect them?"

Harry listened in carefully – he was learning new information.

"Well maybe you should listen! Voldemort's ideas may seem farfetched now, but people never used to believe the world was round!" Mr Johnson's voice was slowly getting louder and louder.

"Don't blame me, Mr Johnson, for what you have brought upon yourself. Now please leave my house." Giles spoke quietly, but it was no less forceful than Johnson's shouts.

Johnson didn't seem to be able to think of a comeback, so he stepped back, and as per his usual, slammed the door. There was a moment's silence, but Harry could no longer reign in his curiosity.

"Giles?" he asked from his place on the sofa.

"Hmm?"

"What's this whole big thing wi' Mr Johnson? Why's he got thrown off the Watcher's Council?"

Giles came and sat down by Harry. "It's kind of a long story, but I'll tell you it – you do deserve to know…"


	5. New Slayer, New Watcher

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything you recognise, but I do take credit for the plot and any OCs.

**Author's Note:** Thanks to **Kalistar, JuMiKu, dm, Sparky, the-dreamer4, Dr Gero, tansy1354, Belladonna16, Dream's Abyss, Tangerine-Alert, alwaysariyana, bangsecurtiyaw, Obsidian-Dragon-Phoenix, momocolady **and **Chailyn Cole Runewood** for reviewing.

Again, I have a couple of things to say: first of all, I know it's unlikely that Harry wasn't told from the beginning not to let people in, but the other residents hardly expected people to come calling. Also, please do carry on with your theories about Mr Johnson - no-one's got it right yet, though a couple of people are very close!

And now, the long awaited (I am sorry about the ridiculous amount of time it's taken to get this out) chapter...

* * *

**The Watcher's Apprentice**

**Chapter Four: New Slayer, new Watcher**

That night, Harry fell back on his bed, his mind going a million miles a minute. All he could think about was what Giles had told him. Last year, Mr Johnson had gone to Albania to investigate paranormal activity there. When he had got back, in early September, there was something different about him. Everyone had thought nothing of it – he had been gone for over a year, and people can change a lot in that time, especially if they see shocking things – but when, at Council meetings, Johnson preached at them to follow a man named Lord Voldemort, things got, to use Giles' words, "fishy".

When they started investigating this Lord Voldemort, the Council came across some very interesting information indeed. During the seventies, Voldemort began his rise to power. He was a wizard – an extremely powerful one at that. Called the Dark Lord by his followers, and You-Know-Who by other witches and wizards who were afraid to speak his name, Voldemort used a different type of magic to the one Giles, and most of the Watchers Council, were used to. His magic was like Harry's. The witches and wizards who knew of Voldemort also had this type of magic and formed secret communities, right on top of normal England. There were many such communities in almost any country in the world.

Harry wondered just how the Council came across this information – undoubtedly Johnson knew it, but he wasn't about to spill all, and it was meant to be top secret. But he hadn't let this question interrupt Giles' flow.

Giles had told him that by 1980 Voldemort was at the height of his power. Witches and wizards lived in fear of arriving home and seeing his sign, the Dark Mark – a skull with a snake through its mouth – floating above their house. But suddenly, in late 1981 he disappeared. He had gone to kill a baby boy, who was prophesised to defeat him, named Harry Potter, but somehow the boy managed to live with nothing but a lightning bolt scar. Voldemort was nowhere to be found. Unfortunately both the boy's parents had been killed just minutes before, so he was sent to live with his only relatives, but he disappeared at the age of six.

There were too many similarities for it to be a coincidence – Harry was the boy prophesised to defeat him.

It wasn't until the following morning that Harry realised he'd never been told what Voldemort actually _did_.

0o0o0o0

During the last days of March and the first week of April, Hermione came round to visit Harry almost every day. He had to use every shred of tolerance he had to great through each visit without a "SHUT UP!"

She seemed determined to give him all the intricate little details about the local school she was about to start after the Easter holidays. A few days after he'd met her, when she had deigned to ask him what class _he_ was in, Harry had made the unfortunate mistake of telling her that he was home schooled, which gave her an excuse to tell him all the advantages and disadvantages of home schooling that she knew of. He nodded and hmm-ed politely while in his head going through the dates of birth and death of all the English monarchs since 1503.

Katherine had decided that in order for him to (hopefully) go to High School in September, he was to have lessons every week day – no holidays. Never had Harry been more grateful to Katherine in his life – this gave him an excuse to get away from the "walking mouth", as he had come to call her in his head.

The day before Hermione's first day at school, Giles was delivered some bad news. Hermione was sent home and Mr Jacobs, Katherine and Harry gathered in the sitting room (James was out).

"Err…I'm not very sure how to say this," began Giles, "But the Slayer was killed last night. Her Watcher lives on so no one new is needed to train the next one, but I just thought you all ought to know."

This news was obviously grave indeed for Katherine and Mr Jacobs, though Harry didn't know why. Sure, someone had died, but it wasn't affecting them – the only thing they had to do was help find the next Slayer.

Two weeks later Harry found out why everyone was so uptight about the death of a Slayer.

During the first few weeks of a new Slayer, vampires tried everything they could to kill them, as they had not honed their powers or gained much knowledge of the undead, so they were easier to kill.

This new Slayer had survived her first two weeks, but her Watcher had not. Giles was to go to America and train Buffy Summers. He was leaving the day after next.

Harry ran up to his room after hearing the news. He buried his head in a pillow – he couldn't believe it.

Giles.

His Giles.

Was leaving.

Giles – the man who had taken him off the streets and given him a loving home, who was keeping the wrath of Mr Johnson at bay – was leaving.

And he probably wouldn't ever see Harry again.

There was a knock at Harry's bedroom door. Harry ignored it, but he heard the door opening anyway.

Footsteps came towards his bed. He could tell it was Giles.

"Harry," said the Watcher.

Harry ignored him.

"Harry, you knew this could come," said Giles.

This made Harry turn over.

"But why_ now?_" he asked. "You're needed _here_, Giles. Against Mr Johnson. Can't they just take someone else instead?"

Giles shook his head. "It's been decided that it is my time." Harry sniffed. "We're all going to have to go at some point, whether we Watch the Slayer or a Potential. Apart from Mr Jacobs."

"What are Potentials?" asked Harry.

"There are girls all over the world who have the potential to be the Slayer. Sometimes, though not often, these girls are discovered. If they are discovered, they are given a Watcher in case it is they who become the Slayer."

"And why not Mr Jacobs?" asked Harry.

"Mr Jacobs has had his time. He stopped when he injured his leg so he couldn't run. It took months to heal so they put in a replacement. By the time it finally healed Mr Jacobs said the replacement could just stay on – it would be easier for the Slayer."

Harry thought that would be awful – being brought up with one aim in life, and then having it taken away from you just when you'd grasped it.

Then Harry did a very rare thing. He hugged Giles. "I'll miss you, and I'll never forget you," he said.

"I know," said Giles. "I'll miss you so much."

0o0o0o0

12b Finley Street adjusted smoothly to the absence of Giles. Often of an evening Harry would sit at his desk looking at a photograph of him and Giles instead of doing homework, but the occupants of the house were usually kept too busy to wallow in the loss of one of their number.

The daily visits of Hermione had turned into the weekly visit of the entire Granger family. While none of the adults minded this much (Katherine liked to have someone girly to gossip with and the men found John Granger to be much more calm than the rest of his family), Harry came to view this as weekly torture. The only good thing about these visits was that, undoubtedly because of the reaction of her schoolmates, Hermione was starting to talk less and be less of a know-it-all. Yet she still had a long way to go before Harry would say he enjoyed her company.

The day to day schooling of Harry had a slight switch around, though it was hardly noticeable. Harry now had sport with James (who, being about fifteen years younger than Giles, was a lot more vigorous) and maths with Mr Jacobs. Katherine was becoming less and less of a teacher for him – by May Harry could read and write as well as any ten year old, and he knew about things such as similies and poetic devices.

But Harry preferred it this way. It was nice to have someone he thought of as _not_ connected with schoolwork, though he could tell Katherine herself didn't like this – she often complained about how little she saw him and out of the corner of his eye, when he was training in the garden with James (they had moved on to the quarterstaff), he could often see her watching them from the kitchen. Him in particular.

With the absence of Giles, the monthly appearance of Johnson stopped as well, though they were starting to get strange telephone calls with no-one on the other end, and letters in the post with just a picture of a skull with a snake going through its mouth. Harry had once suggested going to the police, but apparently the Watcher's Council was above the law, so Katherine phoned around and found that other members had been receiving these things too. Harry put this to the back of his mind – there was nothing to be done, and it seemed like nothing was to come of it anyway. Besides, he had much more imminent things to worry about.

0o0o0o0

In early June, Katherine decided that Harry was at a good enough level to start High School in September. As June was the time to register for a new school, Harry was to be taken around the local comprehensive.

At nine o' clock precisely on the fourteenth of June, Harry Potter and Katherine Lance entered the foyer of St Sebastian's School.

"Good Morning," said Katherine to the receptionist. "I'm here with Harry Potter to see Mr Dawkes." Mr Dawkes was the Headmaster.

The receptionist nodded and told them to take a seat. They weren't waiting long before they were called into the Headmaster's office. It was a small, square shaped room, with bookcases on two walls, a window and filing cabinet on another, and containing only a desk with two chairs in front of it and one chair behind it. This chair was occupied. Mr Dawkes was very tall and heavily built, though he could not be called fat. His brown hair was slightly balding and he had tried but failed to cover up the bald patch with a wispy comb over.

"Good morning," he said imperiously as they entered, standing up to shake both their hands. "Please, take a seat." There was a pause as Dawkes arranged some of the paper on his desk. "Now, I understand Harry's schooling hasn't been as consistent as most children's…"

Katherine spoke up. She looked and sounded every bit the confident business woman. "When we adopted him he had had no education from the age of six, but we immediately started home schooling him. Unfortunately we didn't have time to register him to take the national tests in May but I assure you that if tested, Harry would gain a passing grade."

Dawkes nodded slowly and turned his attention to Harry.

"We have some quick tests for you to do, so that we can be sure you're at the right level to start here. If you go out to the receptionist she'll show you where to go and what to do."

Harry nodded and stood up. "Yes, sir," he said quietly before he left.

0o0o0o0

Harry groaned as it was announced that his time was up. He felt like he'd written for years and he didn't feel confident about what he'd written at all. But the morning wasn't over yet. While his papers were marked, two year sevens (the year he would be starting in September) were going to take him round the school. The receptionist introduced him to Sophie and Lisa. They both wore grey trousers with a white shirt and burgundy jumper. Harry felt very under-dressed in his jeans.

The girls were nice enough, taking him around the corridors and letting him peer into classrooms. Harry was getting a good feeling from the place and he was just about to say so when they entered the drama studio. A wave of foreboding washed through Harry and he actually stumbled in his step.

"Are you alright?" asked Lisa.

Harry nodded. "What happened here?"

"You can feel it too?" asked Sophie.

Harry nodded, guessing she was talking about the same feeling he was having.

Lisa sighed. "Every time we come in here, Sophie always says she gets a bad feeling about this place. She says something is going to happen here soon – something bad."

"It's coming really soon now," said Sophie. "I'm not joking – Harry can feel it too, can't you?"

Harry nodded. "It's like the feeling of suspense you get when you watch a horror film. You know something's about to happen, but you don't know what."

Lisa rolled her eyes. "Well as long as it hasn't happened yet, that's all I'll say."

0o0o0o0

In the car on the way home, Katherine was chattering excitedly.

"I can't believe you managed to pass that test! Well done! Mr Dawkes was saying that while you didn't have the _best_ knowledge, you had enough and could apply the information that you _did_ have, well…" she continued on in the same vein for a few minutes, and just as she was starting to remind Harry of Hermione, she asked. "What did you think of St Sebastian's then?"

"I really liked it," said Harry smiling. "But something really bad is gonna happen in the drama studio soon."

"Like what?" asked Katherine, all business now.

"I don't know, but I wasn't the only one who felt it – one of the girls who were taking me round felt it too."

Two weeks later, the headline of the local paper read _STUDENT HANGS SELF IN DRAMA ROOM AT LOCAL SCHOOL._


	6. A Forest Of Secrets

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything you recognise, but I do take credit for the plot and any OCs.

**Author's Note:** Thanks to **NATWEST, dm, Dnic5, momocolady, Dr Gero, Lady Lamia, mikek3332002** and **wolfawaken** for reviewing. Please do review as this is my first story and I'd really appreciate advice on how to be a better writer.

Also, no-one so far has completely correctly guessed about Mr Johnson. Though this chapter may help some of you...

* * *

**The Watcher's Apprentice**

**Chapter Five: A Forest of Secrets**

Hermione came round the next day, bringing _joyous_ news. She was going to go to St Sebastian's as well, and the suicide of one of the students led to her talking about it for ten minutes. Harry decided _not_ to tell her about his strange feeling when he walked round it – he was sure she would have more than enough views on pre-cognitive abilities.

Harry had just escaped to get them some drinks when the doorbell rang. Hermione was nearest, as the adults were all upstairs, so Harry called for her to answer it. From the kitchen he heard the door click open, Hermione's small voice ask "Hello?" and then a piercing scream.

Harry rushed to the front of the house, but he was only in time to see the door snap shut. By the time he'd opened it again, Hermione was being forced into a car by a hulking figure that looked suspiciously like Mr Johnson.

"James!" Harry shouted. "James!"

The man rushed down the stairs and as he looked in puzzlement at Harry, the boy shouted (even though he didn't need to because James was well within hearing distance) "Johnson took Hermione!"

"What?" asked James, though he had heard every word.

"Johnso-"

"Right, yes…okay…" said James. He was looking around as if for ideas on what to do. He suddenly seemed to have an idea as he said urgently to Harry "Grab your jacket – I'll get the car keys."

After calling out to Katherine and Mr Jacobs what had happened, Harry and James fled the house, ran down the steps and jumped in the car, speeding after Johnson.

"Did you see which way he went?" asked James.

"Left," said Harry. "Then take the second left and carry on that road for a while. I know this is the way he went."

James looked strangely at Harry, but he followed his directions.

0o0o0o0

They drew up into a small car park at the start of a wooded trail. Harry immediately got out of the car and ran into the trees, James running after him.

Very quickly the woods got heavier and darker. No sound from the outside entered, and it seemed to Harry that something more than normal was very definitely _not right_. He ducked a low branch and looked back at James.

"Something isn't right."

"What do you propose we do?"

The absurdity of a grown man taking the orders of a ten year old child didn't seem quite so strange in this situation.

Harry looked around. Peering through the trees he was sure he could see a black figure in the distance, behind James. A red light appeared from it and sped towards James. "Duck!" yelled Harry.

"Where?" asked James stupidly, and he crumpled into a heap. Harry ran over to him.

"James? James!" he shouted. He checked the man's pulse and sighed in relief – James was alive, just unconscious. But what should he do now?

Harry had an idea.

0o0o0o0

Quirrell swore as the boy vanished, taking the man with him. How did the boy know how to Apparate? But there was no time to wonder now – he had to work out where he'd gone. The car would be the most likely…Quirrell disappeared.

0o0o0o0

Harry had just managed to drag James back into the car when he heard a small crack behind him. He whirled around and saw the cloaked man. Harry wished and wished that the man wouldn't be able to get into the car, then disappeared back into the woods.

0o0o0o0

Quirrell flung a curse at the car window to break it, but it just deflected off. He swore again. Who taught this boy? He thought, annoyed.

0o0o0o0

Harry ran through the woods, somehow knowing where he was going. He was going so fast he almost didn't notice a hole in the ground before he fell in, but he managed to stop himself just in time. This was it. Once he'd gone in, he wouldn't be able to go back.

Harry dropped down into the darkness.

0o0o0o0

His eyes adjusted quickly to the light, or rather the lack of it. In the bit of light filtering through from the entrance Harry could see that he was in nothing more than a tunnel cut into the earth – tree roots provided wall decoration and the ground was damp and squishy underfoot. He pressed on, in the only direction available, into the pitch darkness.

It seemed like he'd been walking for ages. It was so dark now that he couldn't even see his hand if he put it right in front of his face. Harry stretched out his hands and touched either side of the tunnel with his fingertips – at least then he'd have some idea if it forked or changed in some way. But it didn't change, and Harry was beginning to get scared that he wasn't in fact moving forward at all. It was like he was in some sort of Netherworld – the sounds from the forest having long since been muffled.

Quite abruptly the tunnel came to an end. Or rather, what Harry thought was a heavy wooden door was put right across it to prevent people from going any further. However Harry was not put off, and he tested the lock with his magic, resulting in it clicking open for him and gaining him entrance to whatever sort of underground lair Johnson had made.

0o0o0o0

Deep underneath the heart of London, in a room with stunning views of blue skies and green fields, the Department of Accident Magic in the Ministry of Magic was in chaos. On their monitoring screens they could see massive amounts of untrained magic coming from a forest near Oxford, yet it could not be called _accidental_ as it was completely controlled. A door opened and what seemed like millions of memos (but was in fact only ten or twenty) came zipping out and hovered over various workers' desks like angry wasps. It seemed the Improper Use of Magic Office was picking up some rather overwhelming readings too.

"Yes, but what are we meant to _do_?" asked one employee into the fire. The face of Mafalda Hopkirk, the head of the IUMO had appeared in the flames and was scowling up at the young man in front of her.

"I don't _care!_" she screamed. "Just get Obliviators out there or something – we've already asked the Aurors to send a squad – this is too big for our department!" Her head disappeared and the young man hurried off to carry out his orders.

0o0o0o0

The cavern behind the door was big – not huge – but big. It had a few wall sconces but they provided such little light they need hardly have been there. Harry could see the small figure of Hermione gagged and tied to a chair, with Johnson standing right behind her, watching the other man from the woods, who was wearing a strange cloak and a turban, and was bent over a large cauldron and whatever substance was in it was smoking slightly.

No-one seemed to have noticed him yet, for which Harry was grateful. He pondered his next move – if he tried to get to Hermione the flickering torchlight would cast large shadows and even if they _were_ engrossed in whatever they were doing, it was highly unlikely they wouldn't notice his large shadow on the walls. And even if he did manage to get to Hermione by teleporting there was no way he'd be able to overpower both Johnson and the other man – magic or no magic.

"The others will be here soon," said the man by the cauldron. His voice was quiet, but not quite a whisper.

Johnson nodded. "Right."

Others? There was no way Harry could stay here until they arrived – he had to act quickly.

He picked up a handful of dirt and threw it away from both himself and the men – it landed harmlessly on the ground with a muffled sound, but the area was in enough shadow that Johnson left Hermione to go and investigate, as the other man was still fussing over the cauldron. Silently Harry teleported to behind Hermione. As quietly as he could he walked to her line of vision and put a finger to his lips. She nodded with wide eyes.

"There's nothing," called Johnson. "It was probably just a rat or something…"

The man by the cauldron tensed. "A rat?" he asked turning in Johnson's direction. Unfortunately Johnson had turned back to look at his partner in crime so Hermione was right in his field of view. Harry shrank back into the shadows of the wall.

"What?" asked Johnson. But the cloaked man wasn't listening. He had walked away from the cauldron and towards the other side of the cavern to Harry. "Quirrell, _what?_" hissed Johnson.

Quirrell (for that was what Harry assumed was the other man's name) put a hand up to sssh Johnson. "Just go and stir the potion," he ordered.

Johnson glared at the back of Quirrell's head but did as he was told.

"You will not sssshow dissssent to Lord Voldemort!" hissed a snake-like voice from somewhere. High-pitched and sinister, it sent chills down Harry's spine.

"Oh, n-no, my Lord," stuttered Johnson. "I would _never_ dream o-of-"

"Of courssse, of courssse," hissed the voice in what was meant to be a soothing hiss but came out more threatening. "Quirrell, I want to sssee my _faithful_ ssservant…"

"M-master," said Quirrell, stuttering himself. "You are still weak…"

"I am ssstrong enough, for thissss…"

Slowly Quirrell unwound his turban. Both Harry and Hermione were afraid to look at what was under there, but neither could take their eyes away from the morbidly fascinating scene.

Where the back of Quirrell's head should have been was another face – a face that could hardly be called human. Neither of the children could see it clearly, but they both recoiled at the typically snake-like features. The vertical pupils of the red eyes pierced through the gloom of the cave and instead of a nose there were two slits for nostrils. Harry gritted his teeth against the pain that had suddenly flared up in his forehead by his lightning scar.

"Let me ssssee my potion," Voldemort hissed.

Quirrell walked backwards, slowly and carefully, to the cauldron.

"Ahhh," sighed Voldemort. "It isss nearly done. Ssssoon, with the girl'sss blood, I ssshall have my body back." Quirrell turned so that Voldemort was looking right at Hermione. "Little mudblood, you have no idea of what a ssserviccce you are doing the ressst of the world. Your sssacrificce will ensssure the purenessssss of magic livesss on!"

Hermione looked back at him, terrified, eyes wide, tears running down her cheeks. Harry could hear muffled sobs coming from behind her gag.

Voldemort took a deep breath, as if savouring the moment. Suddenly, he stopped.

"_Potter!"_ he screeched. "_Potter is here!"_

"Where?" both Johnson and Quirrell asked at the same time. Johnson walked up to Quirrell's side, peering through the darkness.

"Come out, little boy," whispered Voldemort in a sinister hiss.

Against his will, Harry found his legs moving forward, bringing him into the presence of Lord Voldemort – the man who had killed his parents and countless others. He set his jaw as his feet stopped only a few paces away from the so-called Dark Lord and looked up into the cold, red eyes.

"Lord Voldemort," he said, forcing the quaver out of his voice. "Long time, no see."


	7. Lord Voldemort

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognise, but I do take credit for the plot and any OCs.

**Author's Note:** Thanks to **Lady Lamia, NATWEST, pstibbons, dm, Triggerbox, KrisiMwahz, momocolady, Ibozun **and **Knight25** for reviewing. Reviews really help, especially as this is my first story and I have so much to learn.

I'd just like to address the confusion about Quirrell appearing so early. When writing him into the story I thought that his first (and only) year as teacher was Harry's first year, because in Half Blood Prince Dumbledore says something along the lines of no Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher lasting more than a year since Riddle applied. I may be wrong, but this is an AU, so think I can get away with it. No-one really knows exactly what Quirrell was up to before he came to work at Hogwarts, and because in this story Voldemort is getting more active, earlier, Quirrell is already Voldemort's servant. Also, the taking of Hemione's blood has caused some dispute. I maintain that if Voldemort was desperate enough to use unicorn blood, he would be desperate enough to use a muggle-born's blood for whatever dastardly ritual he is trying to do.

Now, this chapter. I'm sorry it came out after quite a few weeks - I think FFN was having technical difficulties as I couldn't upload it. But it's here now anyway, and it's the one I've had most fun writing so far, so enjoy...

* * *

**The Watcher's Apprentice**

**Chapter Six: Lord Voldemort**

"_You?_" shouted Johnson in surprise. "You're Harry Potter?"

Harry raised his chin. "Quite frankly, I thought you'd've already figured that out."

Johnson glared daggers at him, but refrained from actually doing anything.

"You know thisss boy?" asked Voldemort angrily.

"Only in passing, My Lord," simpered Johnson. "He is being looked after by Watchers – by the one who got me fired."

"I will allow you, in that cassse, to get your revenge – do not try to kill him," hissed Voldemort. Harry was puzzled – why couldn't he be killed if they were more than willing to kill Hermione?

"Leave Potter'sss death to me…"

Harry gulped. That would be why.

Johnson grinned maliciously and advanced on Harry, drawing a large knife out of his belt. Harry started stepping back slowly. He could hear Hermione behind him whimpering and trying to move her chair. Harry backed away further and bumped into the cauldron – the liquid inside it sloshed and nearly spilt. Quirrell took a nervous step back, towards it, and Voldemort hissed in caution.

Ah ha! Realised Harry. They needed to protect the potion – in that case, there was one thing he needed to do.

He gave the huge bowl an almighty shove, tipping it over and spilling the contents all over the ground. The men shouted in anger and dismay.

"Quirrell!" shouted Voldemort in a deadly voice and the pain in Harry's head increased, causing him to groan. "Ssshow this bumbling fool how torture isss done!" Quirrell turned around and pointed a stick at Harry, shouting "_STUPEFY!"_ The same red light which had knocked out James sped from it, and Harry ducked just in the nick of time.

But Johnson wasn't out of the fight either. He flung his knife at Harry, who was still crouched down, and it caught Harry right through his upper left arm.

"_Arghh!_" Harry cried, clutching at the handle and yanking the knife back out. His arm throbbed and Harry was sure the muscle was ripped. He decided trying to use it would be a bad idea, and thanked God that he was right handed.

Quirrell was shouting more spells at him, so Harry ran across the cave in an attempt to avoid them. One of the red spells struck Hermione as Harry ran past her and she blacked out. Even in the midst of all this, Harry wondered how he was going to get her out now.

That momentary lapse in concentration had cost him. Harry had barely registered that he had been hit by one of Quirrell's spells before the effects consumed him. He had thought his arm and forehead were painful, but now pain of the like he had never experienced before surrounded him. If felt as if knives were piercing him all over and were then being twisted into his body. He fell to his hands and knees, dropping the knife which he had kept hold of. A scream ripped itself out of his throat. The pain – unimaginable pain – seemed to go on for hours. Finally it lifted, and Harry was left on the ground panting and sweating, his voice hoarse.

His ears were ringing due to the sudden absence of a loud sound, and through the ringing he could hear people laughing. For a moment he was scared the "others" had arrived but he looked up and through his wet fringe he saw Johnson wheezing and heard amused hissing sounds from the back of Quirrell's head.

Rage filled Harry – never had he been so humiliated, not even years ago when Dudley had spilled water over Harry and it had looked like he'd wet himself. He lunged towards Quirrell in a strange crouched run, tackling him around the knees and pulling the man down. Voldemort's face crashed into the floor and would have broken his nose if he'd had one. Harry's hands flew up to Quirrell's neck and he tried to strangle the man – in his rage he'd forgotten that he could do magic.

Harry's hands were too small for Quirrell to be in any real danger of suffocation, yet the man was still screaming himself hoarse and trying to force Harry's hands away. Harry's left hand came away easily, as the arm was still practically useless, and beneath where his hand had been were huge burn marks and blisters. In a flash Harry realised what was happening: something was protecting him, he assumed it was the same thing that had protected him as a baby, and it meant that Voldemort couldn't touch him, and as Voldemort was in Quirrell's body, Quirrell couldn't touch him.

Harry sat himself on top of Quirrell and covered the man's face with his hands. Quirrell screamed in agony and steam rose from between Harry's fingers. Harry gagged as the smell of burnt flesh filled the air. The pain in his scar was still rising, threatening to make Harry pass out.

Quirrell's screams and struggles died away. Harry clambered off the man and faced Johnson, who had been watching the proceedings in horror.

"M-my Lord," he stuttered.

Harry was confused. Did Johnson really think he wanted to take Voldemort's place?

"I am yours," continued Johnson, looking at a point behind and to the left of Harry. Harry turned round, a feeling of dread filling his stomach.

Above Quirrell's body was a floating white figure. Only the head was fully visible, as the rest of it looked like bits of folded white cloth, but the head was enough to frighten Harry – it was the head of Lord Voldemort.

The spirit (for that was what Harry decided to call it in his mind) sped past Harry towards Johnson and was absorbed by the ex-Watcher, who stumbled back with the force.

It took Johnson just a moment to recover, but that was all Harry needed. He ran and picked up the knife he'd dropped earlier, took a quick aim and threw it at Johnson. It struck the man right in the heart and he crumpled to the ground. For the second time in as many minutes, Voldemort's spirit formed in the air. Harry stood in front of Hermione so Voldemort would have to go through him to get to her, but of course Voldemort couldn't touch him.

"You haven't sssseen the lassst of meee, Potter," hissed Voldemort before he flew up into the roof of the cavern, leaving Harry alone with Hermione and two dead bodies.

Harry took a deep breath, trying to ignore the scent of blood and burnt skin, and his left arm, which still throbbed mercilessly. The adrenalin stopped pumping around his body and it seemed like his energy had left along with Voldemort. Slowly he walked over to Hermione and cut her free. He wrapped his good arm around her waist and half carried half dragged her out of the cavern. For a fleeting moment he entertained the notion of teleporting both her and himself out to the car but then got rid of that idea as soon as it came – he hardly had enough energy to carry her, let alone teleport both her and him.

0o0o0o0

The Aurors and Obliviators appeared within seconds of each other. After each unit checked that the other was genuine, they got to work, spreading out across the forest to find out what had happened.

"There's nothing," said the head Auror – Rufus Scrimgeour, "nothing physical anyway."

The leader of the Obliviators, Martin Vox, nodded. "We can test for magical signatures within a two mile radius," he said, getting out a strange instrument from a bag at his hip. It looked rather like a radar, though much more delicate and fiddly. The Aurors and Obliviators gathered together around the Signature Tracker. The screen showed a mass of bright yellow in the centre.

"What does that mean?" asked Scrimgeour.

"That's just us," explained Vox. "If something is yellow it's magical – the brighter the colour the stronger the magic. People like Dumbledore are so strong they show up white." Vox pointed at a blue dot – there were a few of them scattered around the screen. "This is a muggle or a large mammal – we haven't worked out how to distinguish between them yet."

"Look there," said another Auror, pointing. In the top right quarter of the screen were two white dots, a yellow dot and a blue dot all close together.

"That's it," said Scrimgeour. "Everyone Apparate _there_" he pointed to a midpoint between the unknown dots and where the large mass that signified the Ministry employees was "in three, two, one." There were a series of pops and the people disappeared, only to reappear by a hole in the ground.

"Lucky you didn't point a bit to the left," laughed Vox, looking at the hole. There was a murmur of laughter.

"Well, let's get walking then," said Scrimgeour.

"Wait!" said an Obliviator.

"What?"

"Look at the screen!"

Yellow dots were appearing on the screen, surrounding the Aurors and Obliviators.

They looked around, and caught a glimpse of black robes between the trees.

"You don't suppose we're lucky enough for that to be a squad of Unspeakables, do you?" asked someone hopefully.

A sickly green light zoomed towards the group and the man next to the speaker fell down dead.

"'Fraid not, son," said Vox.

"Wands out, Death Eaters about!" barked Scrimgeour, all business now.

The Death Eaters continued to advance towards them. As they got nearer, the barrage of spells got heavier. For the next few minutes the air was filled with the shouts and light of spells flashing across the woods. The Obliviators, having had almost no battle experience, franctically tried to defend themselves whereas the Aurors gave back more than they got. The Death Eaters had soon had enough and they Apparated away, leaving behind about ten stunned colleagues.

The Aurors and Obliviators spent a minute getting their breath back, then Vox said. "Has there been any other Death Eater activity recently?"

Scrimgeour shook his head. "No."

"So what's brought masses of them out here now?" asked Vox.

Scrimgeour swallowed. "Only one thing would do that, and I don't want to think it. You-Know-Who must be back."

They stood in silence; no one wanting to believe what had just been said, but all unable to think of any other answer.

"Er, guv," called a young Obliviator, staring at the Signature Tracker. "Guv, you might want to come and see this."

"What?" asked Vox tiredly, running a hand over his face and walking over to the other man.

"Damn," he whispered, then called over to everyone else. "The Muggle and one large presence have disappeared – that either means they're dead or gone. One yellow and one white presence are heading this way from over there," he pointed through the trees. Everyone peered through the branches.

"There's no one there," said an Auror.

"Does the hole lead to a tunnel?" asked another. Someone went to check.

"Yeah it does, they must be down there…"

"It must be You-Know-Who and his right hand man, wondering where all his cronies have got to!"

0o0o0o0

The long dark tunnel which joined the cavern to the outside world seemed even longer then it did on the way in. Harry had to make many stops to hoist Hermione back up as she slipped out of his grasp time and again. The pain in his other arm was getting worse and he was getting dizzy spells due to loss of blood. A white spot appeared in his vision and at first he thought it was just him about to faint, but then as he kept on walking and it got bigger, he realised it was the outside.

Harry stopped walking though when he heard quiet voices.

"It must be You-Know-Who and his right hand man, wondering where all his cronies have got to!"

"Everyone into positions: first wave shoot to stun – second wave be ready to kill if he walks."

"Anti-Apparating wards up!"

Harry had no idea what these people were talking about, but they were obviously magical and wanted to harm him. Pushing aside all his aches and pains, he concentrated on getting him and Hermione away to the car. He felt the familiar squeezing sensation that meant he was teleporting.

0o0o0o0

Harry landed and immediately crashed to the floor, bringing Hermione with him. That had _hurt._ It had felt as if he'd forced himself through a layer of tough glass. Breathing deeply, he looked up to see a familiar car.

James was inside, beating at the window to get out – Harry's spell had obviously stopped him getting out as well as stopping others from getting in. He concentrated for a moment and lifted it away, then opened the back door, lifting Hermione in as gently as possible.

"What happened?" asked James urgently.

Harry sighed. "Let's just go home. I'll tell you there."


	8. Phone Calls and Revelations

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything you recognise, but I do take credit for the plot and any OCs.

**Author's Note:** Thanks to **pstibbons, Knight25, mikek3332002, Sinkingboat, dm, Ibozun, NATWEST, momocolady, Dream's Abyss, Night's Silhouette, Lady Lamia, Darak, Bittericing, peppymint, JDZ, The Lady Reaper of the Shadows, gaul1, Blanche Flower, Eskaybe3, Shadow patronus **and** Wonderbee31 **for reviewing. Sorry it took so long to get this chapter up. I know it's not really an excuse but I've had loads and loads of schoolwork so some evenings I literally got home, had dinner, did homework, went to bed.

Just to let everyone know, this will _not_ have any romance in it for Harry. There may be some between older characters, but nothing at all graphic - a normal eleven year old would hardly see anything. Also, I've had a complaint about the lack of detail about Harry's street urchin days. I didn't include this for a number of reasons: 1) So many stories go into it in loads of detal and give him all sorts of skills like stealing and "street cunning" so that particular plot detail is kind of old by now. 2) All the homeless people I've seen just sit around in one place all day, which would have made for a pretty boring couple of chapters. 3) He spent most of his time in a pretty sheltered environment for someone without a home, and he even had a friend (!), which explains why he trusted Giles enough to go off with him.

Also, quick update on the ages of the characters: Harry is 11, Buffy is 16, Katherine is in her early twenties, James is in his late twenties, Giles is about forty...or however old he is in canon (I could never tell), Mr Jacobs is about mid-50s and Mr Johnson is/was about Giles' age. If you want to know anyone else's age, just ask.

Oh, and Buffy will not be meeting Harry until _very_ far in the future. A few years yet.

Now, _finally_, the next chapter...Please review!

* * *

**The Watcher's Apprentice**

**Chapter Seven: Phone Calls and Revelations**

Breathe in. One…two…

Breathe out. One…two…

Breathe in. One…two…

Breathe out. One…t-

"Dinner!" Katherine called out.

Harry scowled, annoyed that he had been interrupted. He'd been trying to use his left arm to lift up a large book. It would have been heavy even if he'd used his right arm, but with his left arm it was nearly impossible and extremely painful. Just a month ago the muscle had been slashed through and it seemed to Harry to be taking an age to heal. Harry looked over his shoulder at the ugly white scar that stood out against his skin – a reminder to always be alert and on guard.

"Dinner!" called Katherine again. Harry could hear the impatience in her voice and ran down the stairs.

Harry started on his salad as James spoke to him. "We can go outside and train after dinner, if you'd like."

Harry nodded enthusiastically. Ever since the incident a month ago, Harry had been eager to get better at fighting and magic – facing Voldemort had brought home to him that at some point Harry was going to have to kill him, so Harry was making sure he was prepared for whenever the so-called Dark Lord decided to show his reptilian face again. James was more than happy to go out and train Harry in martial arts, and the young boy had moved onto using the straight sword – the fast, smooth movements, and the way it glittered in the sunlight made Harry love the weapon immediately.

Harry himself made sure he practised his magic every evening. In his bedroom he would set up a small light show, controlling balls of coloured lights and then directing them around the room. In this way he had finally got around to decorating his room from the bland cream wallpaper it had been before – Harry had changed the walls to a light blue colour before covering parts of them with posters he had conjured up of whatever caught his fancy – some were of martial arts films, others of bands, and others just of inspirational sayings.

Hermione didn't seem to remember much of what had happened that day. Of course, she had been knocked out before things got really interesting, so all she remembered was being kidnapped and kept in an underground "cell" (Harry and his family had decided not to correct her when she described her ordeal to them). She remembered two madmen and then her logical mind had assumed that she had been drugged because she thought she remembered Harry arriving and one of the men having two heads, before she was knocked out by a "spell". James stuck to the story that he had called the police and gone with them to find her, where she had been drugged to sleep which was why the next thing she remembered was waking up in her bed. Harry felt really bad lying to her, but knew that they had no choice – she wasn't the sort to believe them anyway if they did tell her the truth.

0o0o0o0

Katherine watched as James and Harry worked out in the garden – the sun was about to set and their swords sparkled in the pink rays. Harry had come on an amazing amount since he had arrived just over a year ago. He was now at the right academic level to attend school and had proved just recently that he could hold his own against two grown men – one of which was a hugely powerful wizard. She wished that Giles were there to see the boy Harry had turned into from the dirty street urchin Giles had taken off the streets one day.

The phone rang suddenly, startling her out of her reverie.

"Hello?" she asked, putting it to her ear.

"Is that Katherine?"

"Giles?!"

"Yes," said the voice on the other end. "I thought I'd ring and catch up with how you were all doing. It's wonderful to hear an English voice again"

"Giles!" Katherine almost shouted in happiness. "Oh, I'm so glad you phoned! Of course, I understand why you haven't before now – you must be _extremely_ busy…How is the new Slayer anyway?"

"She is…quite a handful," said Giles diplomatically. "Sometimes she even reminds me of you."

Katherine laughed. "How? In a 'Girl Power' kind of way?"

"Yes, quite…"

"Oh, I must let you speak to Harry!" exclaimed Katherine in the pause Giles left. "He'll be _dying_ to speak to you!"

"Before you do," said Giles, "Tell me, how is Harry getting along?"

"Oh marvellous," said Katherine, mimicking a television presenter. "Simply marvellous."

"How so?"

"Well, he'll be going to school in September – he got into St Sebastian's! And physically he's achieved so much – James is out in the garden now, teaching him how to use a sword…since a month ago Harry's been really eager to learn how to defend himself properly. He practices his magic a lot more now too…I think he's finally realised that no-one's going to take him away or shout at him for doing it…"

"What happened a month ago?" asked Giles, latching on to the middle part of what Katherine had said.

She paused and her excited tone left. "I-I'll let him explain that to you himself. He'll do a better job than me anyway, seeing as I wasn't there."

Katherine held the telephone away from her as she shouted through the kitchen window. "Harry! Giles is on the phone!"

Harry immediately stopped what he was doing. "Giles?!" Handing James his sword, he ran inside.

"Giles!" cried Harry, taking the phone from Katherine's outstretched hand.

"Harry," said Giles a lot more calmly. "I hear you've been doing well."

Harry blushed and looked at Katherine bashfully, who ruffled his hair before walking out of the room.

"…I try…" he said, smiling. "So how's life been with the Slayer?"

Giles repeated what he'd said to Katherine. "So tell me, what happened a month ago?"

Somehow over the phone, Giles got the impression that Harry's mood sobered.

It was no easy task for him, but Harry managed to tell Giles everything that had happened that day. By the end, Harry was whispering, and he had to force the words out of his constricted throat, but he knew he had to get everything out else he never would – he had not even told Katherine or James the full story. It was easier talking over the telephone rather than face to face. "I…it's terrible, Giles. I _feel_ terrible. I…I killed two men!" A sob forced its way out of his tight throat.

"Oh, Harry," said Giles. "It's not your fault…just think how many lives you've _saved_. We don't know what evils those men would have gone on to do, not to mention Voldemort if he'd been allowed to stay in their bodies…"

Harry nodded, though Giles could not see him. He concentrated on forcing down the painful lump in his throat. One month of keeping everything bottled up inside him had been weighing him down, and getting it out in the relative open was a huge relief.

"And I'm sure Hermione's glad you managed to get them before they got you or her…"

"Hermione hardly remembers…" Harry muttered. "The only way she can explain what she saw before she was knocked out was by being drugged…we decided not to change her mind and James fed her some story about us following in a police car…"

Giles managed a chuckle. "I can't imagine she'd believe you if you told her the truth anyway."

Harry smiled. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

0o0o0o0

Two days after the phone call with Giles, Hermione came round. She came round much less often now – Harry guessed it was because she was scared to go out of the house in case she got kidnapped again and Mr Jacobs seemed to agree as he quoted the saying "Once bitten, twice shy." Harry found Hermione much more bearable now, and was actually looking forward to starting school with her in September, so when she gave him her new piece of news, he was genuinely sad.

"What do you mean you're going to a different school?" asked Harry aghast. "You've been signed up for St Sebastian's longer than me!"

Hermione nodded. "I know, but I've been accepted to a very selective boarding school up in Scotland. It's a really great chance for me to do something different and set myself up for the world."

Harry understood, really he did, and he made sure Hermione knew so, but it didn't stop him from worrying even more now about how he would fare at school. Hermione had been his second ever friend – Michael being his first – and Harry was scared that he'd be the loner, the outcast, just like he'd been back at his first year of primary school with the Dursleys. Granted he wouldn't have Dudley pushing him down at St Sebastian's, but undoubtedly there'd be a Dudley-like character at St Sebastian's too.

"I'll make sure I write often," said Hermione before she went home for tea. She had obviously seen Harry's face – he knew his face was an open book of his emotions.

0o0o0o0

Harry's birthday – the thirty first of July – passed by smoothly, and the summer days sped away in a blur of training and going out with Hermione. The park he had taken her to on her first day in Finley Street had become their regular hang out. Often they would sit in comfortable silence, which suited Harry just fine. However it was slightly strange and though Harry couldn't deny that he liked it, sometimes he wished the old, talkative Hermione would come back as this new, quiet Hermione wasn't how she was meant to be. The summer was proving to be one of the hottest ever and the town council had provided a large fountain which spurted out water by the park, and it was good to lie on the wet grass near it to cool off. Though Katherine often moaned about the grass stains, Harry could tell she didn't really mind.

In late August, Katherine took Harry on another shopping trip, this time to get him his new school uniform and supplies as well as to replace the other clothes he'd grown out of. Many other children were out with their parents too, and he couldn't believe how demanding and loud some of them were. He couldn't believe they didn't realise how lucky they were.

0o0o0o0

Harry woke up early on September the first. Hermione would be leaving that day and he was determined to see her before she left. He was eating breakfast when he saw her leaving the house, her father following behind with her large suitcase. He ran out to see her and they both stopped when she spotted him. Harry hadn't really planned what he was going to do next, and he was taken by surprise when she rushed up to him and hugged him. Gingerly he hugged her back.

"Thank you," she whispered once she had pulled away, looking into his eyes. Harry tried to avoid hers in embarrassment. "Thanks for being my friend," she said, though Harry could tell it meant a lot more than that.

She rushed into her car and as her and her father drove off to London where Hermione would catch the train, Harry watched them silently from the curb. He could see Hermione turning around in the passenger seat to wave at him and he waved back until she turned the corner, out of sight.


	9. Welcome to St Sebastian's

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognise, but I do take credit for the plot and any OCs.

**Author's Note:** Thanks to **Sinkingboat, Nights Silhouette, Inziladun, Rinzei86, dm, peppymint, JDZ, drakiss, momocolady, NATWEST, pstibbons, Evelyn, The Lady Reaper of the Shadows, Lady Lamia, Wonderbee31, BirrterIcing, Dream's Abyss, ApocSM, Fisi Mtima **and** Kin Pandun **for reviewing. I can't believe the response this story is getting. Many of you have also given me tips to improve my writing, which I'm very grateful for. Here are the answers to some questions (though some I cannot answer else I'd be giving too much away!):

Hermione really was traumatised - she truly doesn't remember what happened. At that time she didn't know she was a witch, so was unable to come up with any other answer to what she saw apart from being drugged. She didn't really see that much anyway - she was stunned right at the start of the fight. Harry didn't get a Howarts letter due to the enchantments Giles placed on the house which I mentioned in a previous chapter - as for when/if he'll be attending, I'm afraid I can't answer that. Although the occupants of Harry's house (and Harry himself) know that there is a wizarding world, that is almost all they know - they have no idea that Hogwarts even exists. They only know as much as Giles told Harry a few chapters ago. Oh, and also the Watcher's Council is still very much alive and well...unfortunately.

Those are all the answers I can give for now. Here's chapter eight - please review!

* * *

**The Watcher's Apprentice**

**Chapter Eight: Welcome to St Sebastian's**

A deep rumble sounded close by, accompanied by a sudden flash, causing Katherine to jump in her seat. She gave a nervous laugh and twisted around in her seat to see whether another car was coming as she tried to turn into the main entrance of St Sebastian's.

"It's only a little storm," said Harry reassuringly. The windscreen wipers almost looked like blurs as they fought to keep the sea of rain off.

"A little storm?" asked Katherine. "A _little_ storm? This is a _monsoon!_"

Harry shrugged. He was too nervous to argue now. Katherine pulled into the only empty parking space.

"Alright," she said. "In three we make a run for it." Harry looked through his wet window into the blurred surroundings. He could just about make out the entrance to the reception area. He nodded.

"Three…two…one!"

They burst out of the car, running through puddles and across the car park into the entrance, which someone was holding open for them.

"Thank you," said Katherine gratefully. "Urgh, my feet are soaked!"

"Me too," said Harry. His wet uniform hung off his slim frame loosely and his hair was plastered to his head, making him look rather like a bedraggled dog. He shrugged his bag off as they joined the end of the queue for new students to be shown where to go.

The line moved quickly and efficiently and soon Katherine and Harry were in front of the Deputy Head.

"Ah yes…" she said when Katherine gave her Harry's name. "Hmm…" she flicked through her sheets of paper. "Ah! Here we are: 7B, in room C3. Ed will take you there." A boy much older than Harry stepped forward, and Harry quickly said goodbye to Katherine, who gave him a thumbs up, before stepping up to him.

"Okay?" asked Ed. He seemed to have noticed Harry's nervousness.

"Yeah," said Harry, giving a nervous smile.

"Great," Ed said, smiling at him reassuringly. He reminded Harry of Michael. They started walking to wherever C3 was. "Okay, so your form teacher is Mr Berry. He's pretty nice – I had him for History last year. Just make sure you laugh at his jokes and you'll be fine."

Harry nodded. Ed stopped outside a door. "Here you go," he said, opening it for Harry. "See you."

"Thanks!" said Harry. Ed started walking away. "See you too…" Harry trailed off. He swallowed and stepped into the room.

A man he assumed was Mr Berry was looking at him encouragingly from behind the teacher's desk.

"Come in, come in!" the man said. "I see you had to make a break for it through the rain," the man laughed, indicating Harry's current state of dampness. There was an awkward pause.

Harry gave a fake laugh.

Mr Berry winked and slapped his knee. "Great, great!" he said. "Alright then, come over here; let me get your name."

"Harry Potter, sir." said Harry, walking over.

"Great, great," murmured Mr Berry, running his finger down the register. "Ahh yes…"

Harry looked out into the classroom. About half the desks weren't occupied yet, and a low volume of chat could be heard.

"Great, okay…" said Mr Berry. "I'm sitting everyone in alphabetical order for now, so why don't you take a seat next to Dimitrie over there…" He signaled to the far corner with his hand. Harry nodded and made his way over there.

Dimitrie was a slightly overweight boy who was slightly tanned with dirty blond hair.

"Hi," said Harry awkwardly as he sat down, dumping his bag next to his chair. "I'm Harry Potter."

Dimitrie nodded. "Dimitrie Roux" he said in a slight French accent. Harry smiled, not knowing what else to do.

"It is a great shame about the weather," said Dimitrie. They were seated next to a window, and Harry looked out into the dark day.

"Yeah," he agreed. "My guardian was getting scared."

"You simply have a guardian?" asked Dimitrie.

"My parents died when I was a baby," said Harry quietly. He had no desire to go into the full story including the Dursleys with someone he'd only known for two minutes.

"I am very sorry for your loss," said Dimitrie, looking Harry in the eye and sounding as if he really meant it.

"Thanks," said Harry. "I can hardly remember them really."

Dimitrie nodded. "Then you cannot know what you have lost."

"Err…no," said Harry. "I guess not…" the conversation seemed to have dried up. "So what about your family?" asked Harry.

"Oh my family is very small also," said Dimitrie. "It is just my parents, my older brother Hugo and me in the house."

Harry nodded. "Do you know many people here? I would have known one person but she went off to a private school."

"Yes I know many," said Dimitrie. "A lot of the students from my primary school have come here also."

"Oh, right…" said Harry. "I was home schooled."

"Oh, how lucky you were! The teachers we had were awful. I can only hope they are better here at St Sebastian's. It does have a good reputation after all."

This was news to Harry, who hadn't bothered finding out anything more about the school, but he hmm-ed in agreement.

By this time, everyone had arrived. Throughout the course of their slightly stinted conversation, the noise level had grown progressively louder, but when Mr Berry cleared his throat the class fell silent immediately.

"Great, great," he said. "Now that we are warm and dry-" he paused and looked at them expectantly. It seemed the whole class had been given the same piece of advice as Harry had and they all broke out into nervous laughter. Mr Berry looked pleased. "-let's get down to business. Today it's a just a question of getting your books and textbooks, and us getting to know each other a bit better."

The class listened attentively.

0o0o0o0

By break time, Harry and Dimitrie had got to know each other much better. As it was still pouring outside, the year sevens were stuck inside their classrooms as they didn't know their way around the school yet. Harry and Dimitrie were quietly talking about nothing in particular when Dimitrie suddenly stopped.

"What is it?" asked Harry, looking in the direction his new friend was.

"Olivia Nelson," he said, watching a heavily made up girl walk pompously towards them.

"Dimi!" she cried with fake enthusiasm. She stood by their desk in what was obviously supposed to be a "sexy" pose as she thrust her non existent chest out, but it just looked exceedingly uncomfortable.

He sighed. "Hello Olivia."

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?" she asked. Her voice was sickeningly sweet and she fluttered her eyelashes at Harry.

"Harry Potter, this is Olivia Nelson," said Dimitrie. "Olivia, Harry."

"It's simply _wonderful_ to meet you!" she said, smiling, revealing two rows of perfectly straight, white teeth.

"And you," Harry lied.

She laughed a high pitched, annoying laugh. "Better not hear my boyfriend say that," she said, obviously name dropping.

Harry stared at her.

"And how long have you been going out with this one?" asked Dimitrie sarcastically. "Three days?"

She sniffed. "What are you implying?" she asked threateningly. Dimitrie shrugged. "And it's nearly a month for your information!" She turned and flounced off the other way, her perfect brown hair bouncing as she walked.

Dimitrie shrugged again.

"Well," said Harry, at a loss. "That was strange. Are you sure she's only eleven?"

"Yes," said Dimitrie. "It is unbelievable, but true. She is rather stupid." He said bluntly. "She does not seem to realize that no-one can take her seriously, apart from her small group of followers." He nodded over to where Olivia had gone to, and Harry saw her talking animatedly with a small group of about six other girls, all heavily made up too. They all started giggling when they spotted Harry and Dimitrie looking. The boys turned away in disgust.

"Dimitrie!" shouted another boy from across the room. He was of average build with light brown hair. "Come over here and talk to us!" He was sitting next to a much smaller, weedy boy, who had outgrown brown hair.

"Ah," said Dimitrie. "That is Stephen. We were friends in primary school, though I do not know who he is sitting next to." He paused. "Would you mind terribly if we went and talked to him?"

"'Course not," said Harry, getting up with his friend.

"I'm Stephen," said Stephen when they arrived.

"Harry," said Harry.

"Antony" said the weedy boy.

"Dimitrie," said Dimitrie unsurprisingly.

There was a moment of awkward silence.

"So what school have you come from, Harry?" asked Antony.

"Oh, I was home schooled," explained Harry again.

The boys talked a bit more for a few minutes before break ended and Mr Berry returned.

0o0o0o0

"How was your day?" asked Katherine excitedly once they had made it back to the car.

"Fine," said Harry. "I made some new friends I guess. My teacher Mr Berry seems nice, though his jokes are a bit odd and unfunny."

Katherine negotiated her way out of the car park.

"James and I have decided to treat you tonight, to celebrate you starting school," she said.

Harry smiled. "What?"

"You'll have to wait and see," she said mysteriously.

0o0o0o0

James led Harry down into the basement. He opened up the two cupboards and handed Harry a crossbow, a quiver, two small stakes and his straight sword. James picked out similar weapons for himself.

"What is it?" asked Harry impatiently. "What?"

A smile played about James' lips. "You'll see."

They made their way back to the ground floor. Harry had already been instructed to get changed into a black training outfit, and he stood in the hallway completely confused.

Mr Jacobs came through from the sitting room. "Are you ready?" he asked.

"For what?"

"For going out," he said. "For doing what we've been training you to do."

Harry's eyes lit up. "Fighting vampires?!" he asked excitedly.

"Of course," said Mr Jacobs. "I've seen how far you've come on this past year. You deserve it. To be able to fight against vampires, demons and forces of darkness is one of the best gifts one can get."

Harry stood and nodded, the full meaning of what was happening dawning on him. He looked up and behind him at James' face. James nodded, smiling.

"Ready to go?" the man asked.

"Of course," said Harry, slinging his quiver over his shoulder as they exited the house.

0o0o0o0

Katherine watched from her bedroom window. She could see the two black shapes of Harry and James climbing into the car. She sighed and her warm breath made a small cloud on the glass. The car sped off and she hoped she would see the sight of the two of them in it many times more before the number dwindled down to one. She sighed. What with the Hellmouth in Scotland becoming more active, they would need to be on guard. Its location was unknown, but the fact that demons were being drawn towards it at an alarmingly fast rate meant that within the next few years they would definitely learn it.

Katherine closed her eyes and sighed again. She stood up and walked downstairs. For now, she wouldn't worry about such things. For now, she would sit and watch television with Mr Jacobs.


	10. Friends and Enemies

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything you recognise, but I do take credit for the plot and any OCs.

**Author's Note:** Thanks to **peppymint, sexybitchxoxo, NATWEST, Wonderbee31, dm, Nights Silhouette, The Lady Reaper of the Shadows, Allen Pitt, Sugarbob, Tombadgerlock, Kin Pandun, Sinkingboat, Dream's Abyss, The War General, sadfru, Riley Rose Russell, Dumbledore****, momocolady, Bobboky, RainSeaker, brolly501 **and **KD-Kid** for reviewing. I really don't deserve so much support considering the ridiculous amount of time it's taken for me to get this chapter out - it's been nearly a month!!

I'm really sorry - loads of things have happened which delayed this chapter, of which I'm sure none of you are interested in, and none of which meant that you guys should be punished with having to wait so long. As a sort of reward (which really counts as nothing because you would've got these anyway...), here are the answers to some questions:

Harry only knows the basics of his history that Giles told him a few chapters ago and he is not training with wands _yet_ - he has no idea where to get them from! - and there are other types of magic from the Buffyverse he will get involved with pretty soon. As for where the hellmouth is - sorry but that I cannot tell you...it will play a part in the next fic, as will proper magical teaching for Harry (though I cannot say how).

Hermione knows that Harry is called Harry, but she doesn't know his name is Harry _Potter_. She's always just assumed he's Harry Giles - after all, how often do children talk about their surnames unless they're in school? However she will discover who Harry is relatively soon. And yes Harry will meet Buffy, but in a few years.

And now, the chapter - this takes off right where the last one left off so you might want to go back and read the end little bit...Please review!!

* * *

**The Watcher's Apprentice**

**Chapter Nine: Friends and Enemies**

Harry shivered as the wind rustled through the branches above him. The noise of the trees made it doubly hard to listen out for James…or anything more sinister.

Harry peered around the trunk, eyes peeled, stake at the ready. They'd already come across two vampires that night. Harry had managed to get in a couple of blows, though James did the majority of the effective fighting. One had already been dusted, but the other had run off. James was chasing after her now.

The moon was large, but not quite full. Its pale light shone onto the graveyard causing long shadows and Harry's breath caught at every flicker – he would be able to hear if James came back, but another vampire could sneak up on him easily. Harry turned around the other way and just as he did he thought he caught sight of something moving out of the corner of his eye. He looked and saw a large bunch of flowers swaying on a grave. It was just the wind, he reassured himself.

He heard something crunching on the gravel pathway between the graves. That wasn't the wind. He strained his eyes in the darkness to see something – anything would be better than this perpetual state of suspense. Harry felt a hand rest on his shoulder and he sighed in relief.

"James," he whispered. "I was worried – did you get her?"

Harry turned around to look into James' eyes but instead of seeing the man's warm brown ones he saw the yellow eyes and creased forehead of a vampire. Harry took a quick breath in fear and leaned away – he could not move much more as she still had a firm hold on his shoulder, though he doubted his legs would have been able to carry him anyway.

"Oh don't worry," she said, smiling sweetly and revealing two rows of yellowed fangs, "He didn't get me."

Harry recovered from his shock and thrust his stake into her chest. She hissed in pain and Harry relaxed, but then she took a step back.

"Missed me!" she taunted, but in that step she had released her hold on his shoulder. Harry turned and fled.

He could hear her speeding after him – the vampire's unnatural speed giving her an unfair advantage. He dodged gravestone after gravestone, wondering where James could be. He couldn't help but fear the worst.

Harry turned a corner and hid behind the wall of a crypt. Urgently he unsheathed his straight sword, waiting for the vampire to turn the corner. He held it up at the ready, steeling himself for when she would appear.

But she didn't.

Cautiously, Harry peered around the corner. She was gone. Scared, he looked behind him too, but she was nowhere to be seen. Slowly he took a step forward – there were plenty of hiding places for her. He gripped his sword tightly in both hands, prepared to swing it at a moments notice.

In a blur of brown hair she pounced from behind a gravestone. Harry swung his sword in a graceful arc, and as if in slow motion, her head was sliced off in mid jump. With a sighing sound she crumbled into dust, which was borne away in the wind.

Harry heard panting from behind him. Quickly he spun around, sword raised once again.

"Harry!" James cried.

Harry sighed in relief and lowered his sword. He walked towards James who was still breathing heavily.

"I can't believe you did it!" James panted.

Harry looked behind himself at the place where he had dusted the vampire. "Neither can I."

James gathered Harry up into a hug, which was a rare occurrence in itself. "You're truly amazing, you know that?" he said. "All of us – me, Katherine, Mr Jacobs – we cannot believe how far you've come."

Harry pulled away. James was going rather overboard. "But it's nothing," he said earnestly. "If the prophecy is true and I have to kill Voldemort I need to get in some practice now. Besides," he added, more quietly, "who else is going to protect innocent people who know nothing of vampires and such?"

James took a good, long look at Harry. "Indeed," he said solemnly. "Well then, we'd better get back – it's nearly midnight and you've got your first proper day of school tomorrow!"

0o0o0o0

Harry yawned once again.

"I have also come to the conclusion that Maths is very boring, but surely you cannot be that bored?" said Dimitrie.

"No, sorry," said Harry. "I'm just very tired – had a late night last night." He explained.

"This lesson cannot be helping much then," said Dimitrie sympathetically. "How can he think that some people in this class do not know how to do long multiplication?"

Harry shrugged. If he was honest with himself, he wasn't totally sure how to do long multiplication, but he wasn't about to tell Dimitrie that.

The bell rang, saving them all from death by boredom, and Harry and Dimitrie followed the crowd to their next lesson.

Up until that point, Harry had completely forgotten about the suicide in the drama studio, but as they entered, and the wave of sadness washed over him for the second time (though this time he managed not to let it show), he remembered it. All through their lesson, as the class pranced about like various animals (looking exceedingly stupid to anyone who happened to glance through the window), Harry was thinking about the poor student who had died. His eyes were often drawn to one of the corners. It was odd, yet he couldn't help but want to investigate things further.

0o0o0o0

At break time, Harry slipped away from Dimitrie and the others and crept into the drama room. He made straight for the back corner, and felt around. The wall looked just the same as any other patch of wall in the room, painted a sickly pale yellow with slight cracks in the paintwork, but it was different. As he knocked his knuckles against it, he realised it was hollow – just a small section, about two feet high by one foot wide.

But what could he do? School was in session and surely someone would come running in if they heard him knocking the wall down. It wasn't as if he'd be able to do it anyway – he didn't exactly carry around a hammer in his school bag.

"Harry?"

Harry turned around from where he was crouched in the corner. He saw Antony standing in the doorway.

"What are you doing there?" the other boy asked.

"I…err..left my homework diary in here," stuttered Harry.

"How come?" asked Antony, completely curious now, "We didn't get any homework for drama."

Harry cursed his own stupidity.

"Yeah, well…I thought I'd lost it in here because I definitely put it back in my bag after maths…" Harry lied. He made a show of looking around in his bag. "Ah look!" he cried. "Here it is! It was buried under my other books so I didn't see it."

Antony looked at him oddly, but didn't say anything. Harry quickly swung his bag onto his shoulder and hurried out of the room. He didn't know why he didn't want to let Antony know what he was doing. Perhaps it was just the fact that he'd only known him for a day.

"You know," said Antony as they walked out together, "You're very strange…"

"…Okay…" Harry said after a pause, not quite knowing how to react. Antony laughed.

"It's like you think you're destined for such bigger and better things than just going to school," explained Antony. "I've only known you for one day, and I'm sure you think I'm really strange for saying this, but you've already started to lose sight of the little things…"

"You're strange too" said Harry, pretending to have no idea what Antony was talking about. "For saying that – I dunno what you mean."

In that moment, Harry realised something. Yes, he _was_ destined for bigger and better things than just going to school, but that didn't mean that he couldn't just go to school like everybody else. School and friends (for he was sure he was finally finding some true ones) didn't have to be the things he had 'on the side', they should be the main things. Stuff like fighting vampires, which he had only done once anyway, should be mainly left to the experts, like James. He was still only eleven after all.

0o0o0o0

That night found Harry in the graveyard again. Despite his tiredness, and his earlier resolution, the thrill of the fight and knowing that he was doing something to help people had lured him out.

He and James were currently creeping up on a pair of vampires who were feasting on a teenage girl, the sight of which was almost enough to make Harry physically sick. Harry could hardly believe that James was letting him see such a thing – it was awfully disgusting.

James nodded to Harry from where he was crouched behind a gravestone, and together both sprang out.

The vampires were taken completely by surprise, and they dropped their kill, one focusing on James and one on Harry.

Harry circled his vampire cautiously. The vampire was nearly twice his size and obviously thought Harry was an easy meal. Harry had no intention of being a meal, but that didn't mean the vampire was any less dangerous.

Suddenly the vampire pounced, and Harry quickly sidestepped, bringing his sword up to swipe at his neck, but he was too late and the vampire turned back at him, ready for another go.

This time, in its frenzied attack, it managed to knock Harry's sword out of his hand and away from the fight. Harry gaped for a moment, terrified, as the vampire leered at him.

"Whatcha gonna do now?" asked the vampire mockingly.

Harry had no time for witty banter as he whipped a stake out of the waistband of his trousers and, taking an almost instant aim, he flung it at the vampire. It struck true and after looking at his chest in surprise for a moment, the vampire exploded into dust.

James finished off his vampire at about the same time, and they both stood panting, either side of the dead girl. Harry's eyes finally registered what he was seeing, and he managed to turn away before he threw up.

"Are you alright?" asked James worriedly.

"Y-yeah," said Harry, even though it was pretty obvious he wasn't. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "What do we do with her?" he asked, waving his hand at the body without turning to it.

"We'll just have to leave her," said James. "Wait for someone else to find her in the morning. Let the police take care of it."

"But what if she's been turned?"

"She won't have been. Only one vampire would have been feeding if he intended to turn her." James explained. "They won't ever share their childe."

Harry shuddered.

0o0o0o0

When they arrived home, a letter was waiting for him. The envelope was of thick parchment and said "Harry" in tiny, neat writing.

"It just came in through the letterbox," explained Katherine. "About ten minutes ago."

Harry carefully slit open the envelope, wondering what it could be.

_Dear Harry,_

_I am sorry it has taken so long to write to you. It's been simply amazing here! The school is in fact a huge castle, with turrets, battlements and secret passageways! You'd love it, I know. The work is very different to what I'm used to, but I knew it would be, and I'm enjoying learning every bit of it._

Harry shook his head. Only Hermione could enjoy learning.

_When I do have a scrap of free time, I end up missing everyone terribly. However my new friends are great and they keep me laughing. There is a boy called Ronald (a very strange name, I know)_ (Here Harry couldn't keep from laughing at Hermione calling someone's name strange.) _who seems to have taken a dislike to me, for no reason I can think of. Sometimes I wish you were here, as I know you would be able to stop him (I've seen you practising martial arts in your garden!)._

_How is everything at St Sebastian's? I hope it's going well. Please give your reply to my parents and they will pass it on to me._

_Love,_

_Hermione._

_P.S. Would you mind terribly if you included a picture of yourself? My friend Lavender is dying to see what you look like._

"It's from Hermione," said Harry to Katherine and James who he saw were both looking at him curiously. "She said her new school is going great and apparently it's a big castle!" He folded the letter back up and started to climb the stairs. "I'll write back tomorrow, good night!"


	11. Second Casualty

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything you recognise, but I do take credit for the plot and any OCs.

**Author's Note:** Thanks to **Tombadgerlock, Sinkingboat, pstibbons, Allen Pitt, mike, Wonderbee31, dm, Dernhelm-caorann, The War General, Dreamweaver, Saetan, fooboo27, Nights Silhouette, Belladonna16, The Lady Reaper of the Shadows, harryginny01, Bobboky, Jarvey, Dream's Abyss, Yasmine Lupin, amanda, jw, yojorocks, momocolady** and **moonlit dew** for reviewing.

So, a couple of people have been discussing pairings. Like JKR, I'm not going to be introducing romance for Harry for the next couple of books. He is only 11 after all. But there are all manner of possibilities for who he could end up with. The picture Harry sent Hermione, as most of my lovely reviewers pointed out, is going to be pretty instrumental for the Wizarding World finding Harry, but only if certain people see it - most witches and wizards have no idea of what Harry Potter looks like. Oh also well done to everyone who spotted my coughdeliberatecough mistake. In my AN for last chapter I said that Hermione didn't know Harry's last name, but at the end of the chapter when Harry got a letter from her, the envelope said "Harry Potter" by mistake. So I've edited that now to just say "Harry". It's really nice to know that some of you pay attention so closely to notice that when even I didn't.

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**The Watcher's Apprentice**

**Chapter Ten: Second Casualty**

In contrast to the last couple of days, Harry's third day of school was sunny and bright. This was lucky as it was their first PE lesson, and otherwise they would have been stuck inside doing theory, something which Harry was certain would be extremely boring.

As it was, the class was outside, playing a makeshift game of football. Harry, who understood the rules but had never played in his life, was being more of a hindrance than a help to his team, which nonetheless was winning seven two. As the ball passed him once again, he watched it curiously, not even attempting to kick it, as Olivia Nelson gave it a delicate pat with the sole of her pink trainer, and then complained that mud had ruined her new shoes.

"I don't even see why we have to play this stupid game anyway," she whined to her friends, making sure everyone could hear her. "It's not ladylike at all!" Her friends all nodded in agreement.

"In that case, I'm sure it will suit you very well," said Dimitrie, who was passing as he huffed and puffed his way up the pitch.

"Now, now," said the teacher, who had not heard Dimitrie's cutting comment. "Err…"

"Olivia," scowled Olivia.

"Olivia, women's soccer is a very well respected sport. Why don't you just give it a try, eh?" he asked, he glanced down at Olivia's 'soiled' shoe. "And, er, it might be better if you wore some white trainers you're not so attached to next time."

Olivia's whole demeanour changed. "Okay," she smiled. Harry couldn't help but feel she must have some sort of ulterior motive. "I'll do that next time, so I'm sure you won't mind if I go inside and sit out for the rest of the lesson?" There it was, thought Harry.

She had voiced it as a question, but Olivia didn't wait for an answer before she flounced off towards the school building. The teacher gaped after her, but seemed to decide it wasn't worth bothering with to go after her. He did stop her entourage from following though, who had decided that as her friends, it was all of their responsibility to go and look after her.

By the end of the lesson, everyone was covered in mud, as the ground was still exceedingly wet and slippery from the rain the day before.

"It is amazing," said Dimitrie, as they walked back to the changing rooms, "that Olivia's friends have managed to stay remarkably clean."

Harry twisted around to take a look. Sure enough, although they were complaining louder than anyone, their PE kits had hardly a trace of mud on.

"That would be because they spent the whole time whining and not doing," said Antony. Again, Harry was surprised by the boy's observation skills. Harry considered himself to be observant, but he had been too concentrated on what he was doing rather than how the girls were acting. Or maybe Antony was just nosey.

0o0o0o0

Harry and his friends were walking to Geography after PE, when Stephen, who had stopped off to grab a drink of water, came running up to them.

"Guys!" he said urgently. "You'll never believe what's happened!"

"Tell us then," said Dimitrie.

"Apparently Olivia Nelson hung herself in the Drama Studio!"

Harry's eyes bugged. "Oh my God!" He exchanged a look with Antony, who seemed to be just as affected.

"She never will have, we can but hope," said Dimitrie cynically.

"I'm not joking!" cried Stephen. "All the teachers are gathered around there and no-one's allowed in!"

Right on cue a police siren sounded and they could see flashing lights drive into the school playground.

"My prayers have been answered!" said Dimitrie, sounding happy for the first time Harry had known him.

The three other boys gaped at him.

"You cannot be serious?!" said Stephen. "Yeah, she was annoying, but you can't have seriously wanted her dead!"

Dimitrie just shrugged and walked away, leaving the other three boys to ponder over his terrible behaviour.

"She must have done something really bad to him," said Harry by way of a possible explanation, "for him to want her dead."

Antony looked at him worriedly.

"Yeah, _really_ bad," said Stephen.

The entire student body had been sent home early due to Olivia's suicide. By the next day, the school had sent home letters informing parents what had gone on.

"Soon they'll have a standard letter for this kind of thing, with 'insert name here' on it," joked Dimitrie, while the others looked on in alarm.

0o0o0o0

The drama of the last couple of days had delayed Harry writing to Hermione, though when he finally did he made certain to include everything that had happened. He was certain now that she had made the right choice in going to Hogwarts. After all, she was smart – very smart – and there was no way she would have been able to concentrate fully on her studies with all this going on. But then again, Harry thought, boarding all the way up in Scotland can't have been that settling either. As asked, Harry included a photo of himself. It was an old one, of him and Giles, and looking at it made Harry miss the man even more.

As told to, Harry went round to the Grangers' to drop off his letter. They happened to be entertaining one of the other neighbours as he and Katherine popped round (Katherine had decided that it had been too long since she had last talked to the Grangers) and the awkwardness could be cut with a knife, though the ever-sensible Grangers ignored it admirably. Harry and Katherine made as quick an exit as possible without being rude, though they were unable to turn down the Grangers' offer of joining them for a "last barbeque of the year" party the next weekend. Katherine groaned when they got back home.

"James is going to kill me," she moaned. "There's no way he'll be able to skip it, and those types of things are always super boring. Plus there always ends up being some young snob with her eye on him throughout."

"What have you done?" asked James with a smile as he made his way into the hall after hearing her moaning voice.

"Forgive me, almighty one!" Katherine cried, throwing her hands up and bowing at the waist.

Harry couldn't resist a giggle and explained what had happened.

"Katherine?" said James in a false polite voice. Katherine looked up hopefully. "You suck."

0o0o0o0

Olivia's suicide had made Harry more determined than ever to find out what was going on with that drama studio. He decided to enlist the help of Antony, who Harry thought would probably be the most useful of his friends – Dimitrie would hardly want to and Stephen never seemed to have anything particularly valuable to say. Harry managed to speak to Antony alone on the Friday after the death.

"I have a question," said Harry, sitting down next to Antony at lunch.

"Ask away," said the other boy, waving an apple about.

"Will you help me investigate something?"

"I thought you'd never ask!" said Antony. "I have loads of ideas about what's in that drama room, though I hope none of them are true."

Harry's eyes bugged. "W-What?" he said, astonished. "How did you know?" Harry paused. "How come you always seem to notice so much, anyway?"

"I look." said Antony cryptically. Harry was beginning to suspect Antony was definitely more than he seemed. "Now, here's how we can find out some stuff…"

Harry leaned in. He had no idea how Antony had all this knowledge, but he wasn't about to ignore it just because of that. It was time to get planning, and to get to the bottom of things.

0o0o0o0

"Remember," said Harry, as Katherine dropped him off at school the next day, "I'm staying a bit late to do some studying."

"Oh, yeah," said Katherine, who'd completely forgotten. "I'll be here from five."

Harry thanked her and left the car, heading towards Antony who was waiting by the main gates.

"Have you got everything?" the boy asked him.

"Yeah," said Harry. "You?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure this is going to work?" asked Harry. He was having doubts. Investigating was one thing, but having slept on it, he thought Antony's plan was going a bit far.

"Trust me," said Antony. And Harry did.

0o0o0o0

The day dribbled by at a snail's pace, and if it weren't for the hope of _something_ exciting happening in the near future, Harry thought he might die of boredom. His other friends seemed alright – Stephen was as normal as ever, Dimitrie looked angry and Antony was his usual mysterious self – but Harry definitely thought school wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

By three fifteen, everyone was rushing home, eager to be free, but Harry and Antony crept around the back buildings. The drama room was out of bounds, even though the police had already left knowing it was a straightforward suicide. The doors opened silently as they entered, and the whole school was eerily silent.

"Where are all the teachers?" Harry whispered.

Antony looked at him. "Good point." He whispered back. "Well they're not here anyway."

Harry shrugged and led the way over to the corner.

"That's where I felt something too," said Antony.

"The wall here is hollow," explained Harry. "That's what I was looking at a few weeks ago when you caught me."

They got to work, using a small hammer to knock away at the flaky plaster.

"Why are we whispering?" asked Harry. The noise from the hammer was enough to get them noticed if anyone walked by.

Antony shrugged. "You started it," he said returning to normal voice.

"Sssssh!" said Harry quickly. He thought he heard something.

"What?" asked Antony. "You were just wondering why we were whispering." Antony knocked the wall in again.

"Stoppit!" whispered Harry urgently, grabbing the other boy's wrist. He had definitely heard something that time. Something he didn't like at all.

"Something's in pain," said Harry. "And lots of it. Can't you hear it?"

The moaning and crying was getting louder now. So loud Harry could hardly make out what Antony was replying with.

"No." said the boy. "There's nothing. It's just us. Come on." He gestured to the wall. A small hole had appeared. Harry ignored the crying – it had got quieter now anyway, though it was strange that Antony hadn't heard it.

Slowly they enlarged the hole, until it was about half the size of the hollow bit. Harry, being the smaller of the two boys, peered inside with a torch. What he saw made his stomach turn.

"Antony," he whispered. "There's a body in here." The clothes that lingered on the rotting flesh were remnants of a school uniform, though it wasn't the same as what they wore now.

"That's not surprising," said the other boy. "Though it is rather sad."

Harry was shocked. "Rather sad?" he said surprised. "It's a bit more than rather sad. And how come it's not surprising?"

"Well there was obviously some kind of malevolent spirit in here. The fact that it's a dead person is pretty much irrelevant."

Harry gathered himself together. "But it's a student-"

"Correction," interrupted Antony. "It _was_ a student." He held up a hand. "I'm as sorry for the guy – or girl – as the next person, but we have to move on."

"But what are we gonna do?" asked Harry. "We have to go to the police! This isn't like seeing a dead body in the street – our fingerprints and stuff are going to be all over this wall!"

"Harry," said Antony slowly. "Calm down. How many students are in this school? Plus there're the teachers. Just think how many people will have touched this wall."

Harry realised what Antony said was true.

"Hold this," said Antony, handing Harry a small plastic bag of crushed leaves. Harry took them, perplexed. "We need to do an exorcism."

"Right…" said Harry. He definitely wasn't sure about this any more. He trusted Antony, yes, but knocking down walls and doing black magic was a bit too much.

"Not scared, are you?" mocked Antony, noticing Harry's hesitance.

"No!" said Harry hurriedly. After all, he was a wizard himself, and was definitely not evil.

"Ok then," said Antony with a slight smile. "As I speak, get out the other stuff from my bag and set them on fire. There're some matches in there too." During their conversation he had got an old battered book out of his bag. Now he began to recite in a language Harry thought was probably Latin due to its similarity to the Spanish he had been learning with James.

Harry hurriedly carried out Antony's instructions. Somehow, a wind was picking up in the studio, causing the book's pages to fly about as Antony continued to read haltingly. The leaves and other strange ingredients started to fly about, and Harry had several false starts with the matches before he managed to get one lit for long enough to set the other things alight. The moaning and crying from earlier was back now, full force, and from the wincing expression on Antony's face, Harry knew the other boy could hear it this time. Louder and louder it got until Antony was shouting above the din and the roar of the flames.

The flames burnt themselves out, but in their place was something different. It was a boy – a few years older than them – curled up on the floor, sobbing.

Harry and Antony looked at each other – what were they going to do now?


	12. Magic and Cats

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything you recognise, but I do take credit for the plot and any OCs.

**Author's Note:** Thanks to **dm, Sinkingboat, TNaSeein, Knight25, Quazi Zoe, Dream's Abyss, Lady Foxfire, Saetan, Nights Silhouette, D14852001neko, Allen Pitt, pstibbons, Fooboo27, momocolady, Glamrockprincess, The Lady Reaper of the Shadows, amanda, Wonderbee31, MissRe, rabid-reader-4, moonlit dew, Kin Pandun **and **trekky23** for reviewing. Again, there's been a ridiculously long time between updates. I can't apologise enough - I unexpectedly got a (mega-boring) full time job, which as you can imagine takes a lot of time out of what I thought would be my free days during the summer when I could write loads. As an apology I've written an extra long chapter, but I write a few chapters ahead of the ones I upload onto FFN, so you can expect that in a few weeks.

To answer some questions - Harry will be going to Hogwarts at some point, never fear. He may be amazing at magic, but - as most people have pointed out - he needs proper magical training. Someone commented that exorcism is hardly black magic - it may not be, but to an eleven year old who's never dealt with that sort of thing before, using strange words and substances to deal with the undead would probably seem like some sort of black magic. Someone else thought that what is happening to Harry at the moment - i.e. going to a "normal" school and having loads of OC friends - is completely unnecessary. Just be patient - they will come in useful, and before they do, I hope the other "necessary" people who interact with Harry can tide you over. Harry is definitely not a normal boy, and as they say, _birds of a feather stick together..._

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**Chapter Eleven: Magic and Cats**

"Err…hi!" said Antony unsurely. "What's your name?"

The boy looked up from where he lay on the floor. "Felix," he said strongly, though there was still a hint of a sob in his voice.

"What happened to you?" asked Harry. He knew it wasn't exactly the most tactful way of asking, but he was truly astonished.

"I…I dunno," said Felix, standing up slowly. The rags that Harry had seen on his body in the wall had somehow materialised into a full school uniform. "How did I get here?"

Harry looked at Antony, waiting for the other boy to take the lead. "Err…" said Antony. Harry didn't blame him – after all, what do you say to someone you seem to have just brought back from the dead? "Just wait one minute!" said Antony to the boy – Felix – while he gestured for Harry to follow him to the opposite corner.

"What are you doing?" whispered Harry fiercely. "This is ridiculous! Imagine what he's feeling like right now!"

Antony nodded. "Well you go and tell him something then!"

"Alright," said Harry, nodding decisively. "I will!"

Harry turned back and walked towards Felix. The boy watched him warily. "Um," said Harry quietly. "I'm not really sure how to tell you this, but we somehow seem to have brought you back to life."

"Okay…" said Felix slowly. He didn't seem to have taken it in yet, but Harry didn't think he himself would ever be able to take it in if he was brought back to life.

"You were buried in that wall, behind you," said Harry. Felix turned around and surveyed the half wrecked plaster with a scientific eye, as if it were a crime scene he was investigating – which he was, Harry supposed, just of his own murder. "Do you have any idea how that happened?"

Felix paused for a moment, then nodded slowly, before starting to sob again.

"It's alright," said Harry, rummaging around in his blazer pocket for a tissue, but Felix waved it away.

"What's the date?" Antony asked Felix suddenly, from the other side of the room.

"Eighteenth of September, seventy six," said Felix. As soon as he had said it, the boy paused. "It's not, is it?" he asked Harry.

"No, it's not. It's ninety one."

"Oh my God – my parents!" exclaimed Felix. "What will they have done? Do they even know I was in there?" he gestured vaguely to the wall.

Harry turned back and looked at Antony, who shrugged.

"Um…I don't think so…" said Harry speaking on behalf of the both of them.

"Well then I should go and see them!" said Felix, who immediately made for the door.

"No!" shouted Antony hurriedly, moving to block his way. "You can't!"

Harry looked at his friend quizzically. Surely Felix should be allowed to see his family…

"You're not meant to be alive," explained Antony. "All that ritual was meant to do was get rid of that person's soul from the place they were haunting – your soul should have gone now, so why have you still got it?"

Felix looked uncomfortable for a second – Harry reasoned that what Antony had just said must have been pretty hurtful.

"More to the point…" said Antony, musing to himself "Why was your soul so hurtful to other people before, when now you seem perfectly nice…?"

"Well that other soul can't have been me then," said Felix. "I don't know what you're talking about, but I'd never hurt a fly." Felix paused. "Well actually I probably would, if it kept going on my food…but not normally!"

"Well then, perhaps there was someone else's soul in here…" Antony rushed to the corner they had pulled apart and used the torch to examine any other contents. Felix looked about to be sick as he watched Antony feel between his bones. "Got it!" exclaimed Antony.

"What?" asked Harry who had stood back and kept an eye on Felix.

Antony stood back and triumphantly held a beautiful goblet aloft.

"That was my grandmother's!" Felix exclaimed.

"Well then why was it buried with you?" asked Harry quietly.

Felix looked down at his feet, and then back up again at the ceiling. It was obvious he was about to tell them something very important to him.

"My grandmother died a few weeks ago," he said quietly. "Well, I guess it would be over fifteen years ago now… She was very strange – going on about our safety all the time, and wanting us to leave Britain. I know the country isn't the most secure of places, but there wasn't a death threat hanging over us… After she died, a strange man came to our house and very specifically asked for that goblet – he described it gem for gem. Well, my mum wouldn't give it to him – it'd been left to us in grandmother's will anyway, and of course it's probably worth a fortune.

"Day after day he'd come back, asking – always politely – for the goblet. The last morning I remember-" here Felix's breath hitched "-he got violent. I'd been upstairs sorting stuff out while my mum had gone downstairs to answer the doorbell. I heard his voice, and her screaming in pain. I was about to go downstairs when she shouted up for me to run, so I grabbed the goblet and shimmied down a drainpipe. He spotted me out of a window though, and gave chase. He had some sort of weird laser gun – I didn't stop to find out exactly what it was, I just concentrated on running away from him. There was a new school being built at the time – St Sebastian's if I remember correctly – and I tried to hide in the building site there. But he found me. The last thing I remember is him saying something, and then the weird green laser coming towards me – it was like something out of Star Wars…" Felix paused, his eyes shining. "That was what killed me, wasn't it?"

Antony nodded. "I'm sorry."

Felix sniffed. "It's okay though…as long as he didn't get the goblet." He stopped in thought. "It is strange how he buried it with me rather than get a load of money for it though…"

"We'll never know." said Harry quietly.

Felix nodded, and just like that, as if he had never been solid in the first place, a strange gust of wind came from nowhere, blowing through him as he seemed to dissolve in front of their eyes.

Harry blinked. "Where did he go?"

"He'd resolved his business," explained Antony. "There was no need for him to stick around here any more – his grandma's treasure was kept safe."

"He must've been really close to her…" Harry said wistfully.

"Right!" said Antony, completely spoiling the mood. "Let's go then shall we – don't you have someone picking you up about now?"

Harry looked at his watch. Sure enough, it was already ten past five. "Oh yeah," said Harry. "Are we just gonna leave this mess?" Bits of plaster and leaf were strewn across the floor.

"I'll sort it out," said Antony. "I can be here 'til six."

"Thanks!" said Harry. "Gotta run!"

0o0o0o0

Katherine was waiting for him in her usual spot.

"Have a good study session?" she asked as he got in the car.

Harry shrugged. "Fine – nothing particularly exciting."

"What was it you were doing?"

"History."

0o0o0o0

"James, are you ready?" called Katherine up the stairs.

It was Saturday morning and they were about to go to the lunchtime barbeque at the Grangers. As it was the first time they had met any other neighbours, Katherine was anxious to make a good impression – something Harry didn't at all understand seeing as they had tried to _stop_ visitors for so long. Mr Jacobs had begged off – using ill health as an excuse – so Harry, James and Katherine were to go without him.

After much deliberation – and near arguments between Katherine and James – they had decided to dress casually and Harry was astonished to find his guardians wearing jeans and T-shirts – neither of which he knew they owned.

"Ready," nodded James as he arrived in the hall next to them.

Katherine rang the Grangers' door bell and quickly Mr Granger opened it up for them. "Ah!" he said. "I was wondering when you were going to arrive – Jane was scared you weren't going to turn up! Come in, come in! Everyone's already in the back garden."

He showed them through and pointed Harry in the direction of some children who were playing a small game of cricket on the lawn. Harry didn't recognise any of them, and floated around pointlessly at the edge of the pitch. Eventually one of them took pity on him and beckoned him on to play as wicket keeper.

"Hey you!" shouted the boy. He looked about fifteen and was obviously the person who had started this game. He had light brown hair and a mouth that seemed to take up half his face. "Know how to play cricket?"

Harry shook his head. The boy looked shocked but covered it quickly. "Don't worry, stand behind these stumps and catch the ball when it comes to you, then throw it back to the bowler. That's me."

Harry obligingly did as he was told, and thus began the most boring two hours of his life. The hard red ball came towards him at a blinding pace, though he managed to catch it almost every time, pleasing the bowler (who's name he learned was Sam) to no end. But it was the same thing every time – and Harry was infinitely grateful when the barbecue was ready and a break was called.

"Are you sure you've never played before?" asked Sam during this break. As Harry shook his head the boy marvelled. "That's great hand eye co-ordination you've got there – where'd you get it from?"

"Er…I do martial arts, I guess that must help," said Harry shyly.

Harry managed to persuade himself to carry on playing for another hour before he left the field – claiming he was getting sunburnt in the slightly overcast day – and scanned the small garden for James or Katherine. They were talking with Mrs Granger and a man he didn't recognise, and seemed to be deep in conversation. Harry didn't want to disturb them – he doubted their conversation would be of any interest anyway – and now wished more than ever that Hermione was there as at least then he'd have someone to talk to.

Harry got himself a drink and sat down on an empty deck chair, pulling his jumper on (which he'd discarded earlier because he had got hot playing cricket) as a cool wind blew around them, rustling the trees and nearly upsetting the precariously balanced cricket bales. In the wake of the disturbed leaves, a small girl spotted a tiny cat stuck up in the trees.

"Daddy! Daddy!" she cried, running over to her father as Harry watched interestedly. "Get it down!"

Her poor father was stuck – there was no way he was able to get the cat down but neither did he want to let down his daughter.

Harry knew he could get the cat down – it was just a quick matter of balancing on the garden fence, and holding on to the twiggy branches near the top of the tree. Over the man's head, Harry saw James give him a big nod – that was all the confirmation he needed.

Running to the other side of the garden from his seat, Harry managed to get enough momentum going for him to grab onto the top of the fence with one hand. He scrambled up and managed to get both feet on top of the narrow wood while he wobbled about, holding onto tree branches for balance. He looked up, sighting the cat which had leapt in flight at his sudden movement to further up the tree. Harry stretched out, trying to gain a handhold on the flicking branches, and at the same time moved a foot to rest on the rough bark of the tree trunk. Slowly he inched himself along, aware of the pairs of eyes watching him from the ground. Everyone was silent – scared he would be distracted and lose his footing if they so much as moved a muscle.

Slowly Harry reached out towards the cat. In one mad dash it leapt out along his arm and down his body, finally jumping down from the fence into the garden of the house separating Harry's house from the Grangers'. Harry now began the even harder task of getting himself down. He chanced a look below him – it was an awfully long way – much too far for him to even contemplate about jumping. Slowly he moved his foot off the bark, but another soft gush of wind caused the tree to move and his hold on it to loosen.

Arms flailing, Harry crashed to the ground with a wild yell.


End file.
